Ex otio negotium. Or, Martiall his epigrams translated. With sundry poems and fancies, / by R. Fletcher.

MARTIALL: Lib. I. Epig.

Ad Catonem.

WHen thou didst know the merry Feast Of jocund Flora was at best, Our solemn sports▪ how loosely free, And debonair e the vulgar be, Strict Cato, why didst thou intrude Into the seated multitude? Was it thy frolick here alone Only to enter and be gone?

Ad Lectorem Epig. 2.

This whom thou readst is he by thee re∣quired, Martiall, through all the world fam'd and desired, For sharpest Books of Epigrams, on whom (Ingenious Reader) living, without Tombe,

Thou hast bestow'd that high and glorious wreath, Which seldome Poets after death receive.

Ad Librum suum, Epig. 4.

Among the Stationers th'hadst rather be (My litle Book) though my shelf's void for thee, Alas! thou knowst not Madam Rome's disdain, Great Mars his sons are of a pregnant brain, Gybes no where are more free: young men and old, And Boyes their Nose up in derision hold, Whiles thou shalt hear thy praise, and kisses have, Thou shalt be toss'd from th' bosome to the Grave. But thou for fear thou feel'st thy Masters hand, And thy loose sports should by his reed be scann'd, (Lascivious Book) thou seek'st to mount a∣broad, Go, fly, but home were yet thy safer road.

Ad Caesarem, Epig. 5.

If by chance (Caesar) thou take up my Books, Lord of the world put by thy morning looks: Thy greatest tryumphs have admitted mirth, Nor need'st thou blush to give my fancy birth, With what aspect thou smilest on Thymele, Or mimicall Latinus, read thou mee.

Innocent sports, strict censure may peruse, My life is modest though my lines be loose.

Ad Decianum Epig. 9.

Because thou follow'st so in thy intents Great ••hrasea's, and brave Cato's presidents, That thou maist be secure: nor runn'st thybrest Naked on drawn Swords in a frantick jest, (Decian) thou dost what I would have thee do: I like not him, who to redeem, or wo An empty fame by 's easie blood is rais'd, Give me the man that lives and yet is prais'd.

De Gemello & Maronilla. Epig. 11.

Gemellus seeks old Maronill to wed, Desires it much, is instant, prayes, and fees, Is she so fair? Nought's more ill favoured: What then provokes? O she doth cough and wheeze.

De Arria & Paeto. Epig. 14.

When Arria to her Paeto gave the sword, Which she in her own bowels first had gor'd, Trust me quoth she, that wound I made, do'nt grieve. But that doth Paetus which thou meanest to give.

Ad Julium. 16. Epig.

O thou to mee 'mongst my chiefe friends in mind. (Julius) if antient faith, and tyes ought bind, The sixtith Consull present is to thee, And yet thy life knowes small felicitie. Thou dost not well defer thus to denye, And call that only thine that is past by: Cares, and chainpd toyles expect thee, joys nere stay, But fleeting take their leave, and flie away; These with spread armes and with eaeh hand embrace, They oft slide from our bosomes secret'st place. Credit me t'is not wise, I'le live to stay To morrow's lif's too late, live thou to day.

In Aeliam. Epig. 20.

Aelia just four teeth had, if I told right, One Cough ejected two, another two: Now she may Cough securely day and night There's nothing left for the third Cough to doe.

De Porsena & Mucio Scaevola. Epig. 22.

When the right hand mistaken in the guard Seeking t' assault the king; in fell reward Threw it self in the holy flames to dye, Such Cruell wonders the good enemie

Could not sustain, but by command anon Snatchd from the flames injoyns him to be gon; That hand which Mucius in contempt was bold To burn, King Porsena could not behold: The failing hand the greater glory found, Had it not err'd, it had been lesse renown'd.

Ad Cottam Epig. 24.

Cotta th'invitest none, but such with thee Are bath'd, and baths provide thee companie: I wondred long how I escaped thy call: But now I see my naked truth spoil'd all.

Ad Sabidum Epig. 33.

I do not love the (Sabidus), Nor can I tell thee why: Only my humour happens thus, I doe not fancy thee.

De Gellia, Epig. 34.

Gellia nere mourns her fathers losse Whiles no one's by to see, But yet her soon commanded tears Flow in societie: 'To weep for praise is but a feigned moan, 'He grieves most truly that does grieve alone▪

Ad Lesbiam, Epig. 35.

Lesbia thou sin'st still with an unpimp'd door, And open, and nere cloak'st thy pleasure ore,

Thy peepers more than active friends delight, Nor are thy joys in kind if out of sight: But yet the common wench with veil and key Strives to expell the witnesse far away▪ No chinck doth in a Brothel-house appear, Of vulgar Strumpets learn this modest care, Stews hide this filthinesse: but Lesbia see If this my censure seem too hard to be? I do'nt forbid thee to imploy thy prime, But to be taken Lesbia, there's the crime.

Ad Fidentinum, Epig. 39.

That Book thou read'st is ours, my Fidentine, But now thou readst so ill, 'tis surely thine.

Ad Lividum, Epig. 41.

Thou that look'st sowre, & readst unwillingly, Mayst th' envy all men! no man envy thee!

De Porcia Epig. 43.

When Porcia heard her husband Brutus fate, And grief pursued substracted armes to take, Know ye not yet death cannot be denyed? Quoth she, this proof enough my father tried This sayd, she drank the burning Coals in ire, Go now vexatious Crowd your sword retyre.

Ad Hedylam Epig. 47.

When thou sayst I hasten to't, Doe it if thou meanst to do't;

Hedyla, delayd desire Soon languishes and doth expire. Command me to expect, then I Withheld shall run more speedily, But Hedyla if thou dost hast, Tell me that I not come too fast.

Ad Fuscum Epig. 55.

If any room (my Fuscus) yet there be Voyd in thy Love; for here and there we see Thy freinds abound, one place I doe implore, Nor me reject because unknown before, Thy antientest familiars were as new, When first thy parts their apt affection drew, O let my later love this boon obtain, To be embraced in the elder strain.

Ad Frontonem, Epig. 56.

Wouldst know thy Marcus wish here in a word? (Fronto) thou great renown of Gown and Sword, Tis to be master of a little Field, His own, course pleasures him such pleasures yeeld. Every man courts the walks of Spartan stone, And wearies his how dey' simply till noone: He that enjoyes his happy grove and land, Before whose fire the loaded Nets spread stand,

And leaping fish hangs with a trembling line, Drawing sweet hony from red casks for wine? Whose fat made spreads his Table with three legs, And whose unpurchased embers roast his egs, May he hate me that hates this life or this, And live imployd in City Offices.

Ad Flaccum, Epig. 58

My Flaccus, if thou needs wouldest crave What wench I would, and would not have? I loath the too too easy field A like with her that nere will yield. A moderation I embrace, And most approve the middle place, I fancy none that wring my gutts, Nor her that in enjoying gluts.

De Laevina Epig. 63.

Laevina Chast as Sabines were of old Whose face look'd stricter than her husbands, could, Whiles she permits her selfe refresh'd to be Oft in the baths held in communit ie, She fell on fire, embraced a lad, and burn'd, Chast she came there, but too much chasd re∣turn'd.

Ad Somnum Epig. 72.

Naevia six Cupps Justina seaven Comprize, Lycas five, Lyde four▪ and Ida three,

Each man his love by healths arithmatize, If none appeare, then Sleep come thou to me

Ad Fidentinum Epig. 73.

Fidentine dost thou think and seek to be A Poet by my verse in thievery? So Aegle with her bought and Indian bone may seem to have a sound mouth of her own. So painted-faced Lycoris may seem white, Though black as Moores veild in a nat' rall night. For that same cause that thou art Poet call'd, Thou mayst be said bush-haird when thou art bald.

Ad Caecilianum Epig. 74.

Scarce on in all the Citty would embrace Thy proffer'd wife (Caecilian) free to have: But now she guarded, and lock'd up: apace Thy custom comes. O th'art a witty knave!

Ad Flaccum Epig. 77.

Flaccus thou greatest of my cares to me, The heire of old Antenors familie! Out with these Muses songs, and companie, No Girle among them will bring ought to thee. What seekst of Phaebus? tis Minerva's chest Is full, shee's wise and hoards up all the rest.

What can poor Bacchus wreaths give? Pallas tree Weighs down her boughs with superfluitie. Helicon has no more but springs, and bays, The harps of Goddesses and empty praise. With th' Sacred Fountains what hast thou to doe? The Roman Courts more rich, and nearer too. There the chink gingles, but about our chayr And pulpits, Kisses only fill the Ayre.

De Manneia's Epig. 84.

A puppie licks Manneia's lipps, the sense I grant, a dog may kis.—sir reverence.

De Quicinali Epig. 85.

Sly Quicinalis cares not much to wed, Yet would partake the off-spring of the bed, But yet what trick? what custom is't he uses? Most certain he his chamber-maids abuses. So stocks his house and feilds: how truly he Is calld the Father of his familie?

De Novio Microspico Epig. 87.

Novius my neighbour is, and he From out my windows reacht may be, Who will not envy me? and say I'm happy all howers of the day? Who may, enjoy a freind so near? But he's as farr from me, as where

Terentian guards Syene's wall, Nor can I feast with him at all, Nor is it granted once to me To hear him, or at least to see, Nor in this City one throughout Lives me more near, or more remote. Well he or I must further move, Who so would Novius neighbour prove: And verily his Inmate be, Must never Novius mean to see.

Ad Bassam tribadem Epig. 91.

Cause amongst males thou nere was seen to be Nor as unchast no fable feigned thee, But all thy offices discharged were By thy own sex, no man intruding there, I grant thou seem'dst Lucretia to our eye, But (o mistake!) Bassa th' art out ont, fie. Two Twatts commit the fact, and dare it can, Whiles a prodigious lust supplies the man, Th' hast made a riddle worth the Thebane guile, Where no man is, adultery bred the while.

Ad Naevolum Causidicum Epig. 98.

Still in a crowd of noise thy voyce is heard, And thinkst thy self a Lawyer for thy table, On this account each man that wears a beard May be as wise: lo all men peace! now pratle.

Ad Calenum avarum Epig. 100.

Thou scarce hadst twenty sesterties in all, Yet wast so bountifull, and liberall, So richly neat (Calenus) that all wee Thy friends did wish thee much more great to be, Jove heard our prayers, and what we then de∣sired, And ere seaven months (I think) were full expired Foure funerals bequeathd thee such a summ: But, thou as if no Legacies had come, But rather hadst bin robd, grewst so in care, So basely hard, that our more sumptuous fare That in a year thou dost provide one time Costs thee no more then th' offal of thy coyn: And we thy seaven old friends are by thee thought Worth but a lead half pound if to be bought, What mischief shall we wish that's worthy thee? Even a thousand times more rich to bee! If this shall happen which we pray it might, Wretched Calenus thou wilt starve out-right.

Ad Scoevolam Epig. 104.

Scaevola not as yet dubbd Knight he prays For one ten thousand pounds his stock to raise,

How largely would he live! how happilie! The easie gods smil'd and vouchsaf'd it free. Upon this b••on his coat was much more bare▪ His Cloak far worse, his shoos thrice clouted are, His olives were of seaven years vintage stand∣ding, One Table serves two meales by his com∣manding: The course dreggs ofred wine are his chiefe drink, His pease and wench scarce cost one doit I think, Let us appeale to Law, thou cheating Bore, Live, or else to the gods their goods restore.

Ad Lucium Julium Epig. 108.

Most famous Julius thou sayst oft to mee, Th'art idle, write things for eternitie: Give me such boons I cry, such as of old Horace and Virgil from their Patron hold, Ile strive to raise my cares beyond times date, And snatch my name from fire's consuming hate, The Oxe on barren fields his yoke wiln't beare, A fast soyle tyres, but yet the labour's dear.

Ad Ʋelocem Epig. 111.

Ʋelox complaines my Epigrams are long, whiles he writes none: he fings a shorter song

Lib. 2.

Epig. 3.

SExtus ows nought, nor fears his quarter day, 'Tis true: he ows most truly that can pay.

Ad Decianum, Epig. 5.

Let me not live (my Decian) if the day And the whole night I would not with thee stay, But there are two miles that divide our home, Which are made foure to me when I back come. Th'art oft abroad: when not, th'art oft denied, Or with thy causes, or thy self imploy'd. But yet to see thee two miles I will go; But not to see thee, foure don't please me so.

De Selio, Epig. 11.

(Rufus) if an inquiry's made Why Selius walks so late and sad? Why his dull looks seem to imploy Some dismal chance and malady?

Why his foule nose hangs ore his chest? And pulls his hair, and beats his brest. He moans no losse of friend, or brother, His one son's well, and so's the other, And may they live! his wife's in health, His servants safe, and bags of wealth, His Husband-man and Bailiffe too, Have neer purloyn'd ought of his due, What then's the cause that thus he blubberd? Why Selius sups at his own Cup-board.

In Posthumum, Epig. 12.

What's this that myrrh doth still smel in thy kisse's, And that with thee no other odour is? Tis doubt (my Posthumus) he that doth smel So sweetly alwayes, smels not very well.

In Hermum, Epig. 15.

Hermus because thou givest thy Cup to none: It i•• not proudly, but humanely done.

De Paulo, Epig. 20.

Paulus buyes verse, recites, and owns them all, For what thou buy'st, thou mayst thine truly call.

In Posthumum, Epig. 21.

Posthumus kisses some must have, And some salute his fist:

Thy hand good Posthumus I crave, If I may choose my list.

De eodem, Epig. 22▪

O Phoebus and ye sisters nine, What shall I do with you? Behold that merry Muse of mine Her Poet will undoe. Posthumus late was wont to kisse With half lips, which I loath, But now my plague redoubled is, He kisses me with both.

In Candidum, Epig. 24.

If thy crosse fortune send thee some sad fate, I must persist thy pale and squallid mate. If from thy Country thou must banish'd be. Through seas and rocks I still must follow thee. If riches come, will they be free to many? Wilt thou give part? tis much; wilt thou give any? Tis crosses makes thee mine: when they are gone, Candidus will be happy then alone.

Ad Gallam, Epig. 25.

Galla dares promise, but makes good no ty, If thou still failest? I prethee once deny.

Ad Bithynicum, Epig. 26.

Cause Nevia coughs, and grieves, breaths thick and short, And drops her spittle on her brest in sport: Do'st think thy self her heire made presently? Th' art out, thy Naevia flatters, will not dye.

In Cajum Epig. 30.

Twice twenty sesterties I once besought, Which were they given could not much be thought, Cause 'twas my happy and my antient friend I askd, whose cofferd treasures knew no end? He answered: follow suits, thou mayst buy land: I ask no Counsel Cajus, crosse my hand.

In Caecilianum Epig. 37.

What's here and there thou dost purloyn, A pregnat sow's papps, a hoggs chine, A woodcock, commons for two men, A whole Jack, half a Barble, then A Lamprey's side, a Pullet's thigh, A Stock-dove boyld in pottage by: When these are hid in greasy clout, And to thy Boy deliverd out To be brought to thy home: we sit An idle crowd without a bit. Restore the feast if any shame there bee, To morrow I have not invited thee.

In Linum Epig. 38.

Linus dost ask what my field yeilds to mee? Even this profit, that I nere see thee.

De eodem

Linus gives purple and rich scarlet gowns To his notorious and adult'rous woman: If thou wouldst give what her degree becoms? A loose coat would more fitly stock her com∣mon.

In Candidum Epig. 43.

These are thy 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 these are they (Candidus) which thou soundst out night and day. Thy gown is washd in the Calabrian spring, Or of those flocks their fleece to Parma bring. But mine as one that passed the bulls hornes, stares, Or which would scarce be owned by the first haires, Agenor's son's ••••••et countrey sends thee coats, Thou canst not sell my scarlet for three groats. Thou hangst with Indian teeth thy Libian rings, My beechen table's propd with earthen things Thy gold-tipd plates rich barbles do bedight My dish is red with self-look'd Aconite.

Thy boyes may with the Ilian lad compare, My hands my Ganymedes most duly are. Of this thy wealth thou nought bestowest on us Thy friends: yet cry'st out 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Candidus.

In Sextum Epig. 44.

Whether I've bought a freeze coat or a boy, For three or four times double the pound Troy, Forthwith the us're•• Sextus, which ye know To be my antient neighbour-friend in show, In care, least I should borrow of him, fears And whispers to himself, but by my eares, I to Secundus owe seaven thousand pounds, To Phaebus four, eleven Philetus sounds; Whiles I have not one farthing in my chest: O my conceited friend's ingenious jest! Sextus 'tis hard to give a flat denyal, When thou art askd: much more before the tryal.

In Maximum 〈◊〉〈◊〉

Maximus wouldst be free? tis false, thou'lt not, But if thou wouldst indeed, hence take the plot; Thou shalt: if thou can'st choose to sup a∣broad: Or if small wine thy thirst can quench or load:

If thou can'st scorne poore Cinna's bravery, And with our homely gown contented bee, If thy lust may be calmd for half a sowse, And entring can'st stoop to thy low-roofd house: If thou this power of self and minde canst bring, Thou shalt live freer then the Parthian king.

Ad Gallum de ejus uxore Epig. 56.

In Lybia thy wife they stigmatize With the foule crime of too much avarice. But they are lyes they tell: she is not wont To take, but give for scouring of her—.

In Zoilum Epig. 58.

Zoilus well cloathd, derides my thred-bare gowne, Tis true tis thred-bare Zoilus, but my owne.

In Taurum Epig. 64.

While now thou'lt Lawyer be, now Rhetorician, And knowst not to make forth thy wishd con∣dition, Peleus, and Priam's, Nestor's age slips by, And it was grown too late for thee to try; Begin: three Rhetoricians dyed one yeare! Ifthou hast any skill or stomack here?

If Schools dislike? Courts swarm with the old trade, And Marsya's self a Lawyer may be made. Fie, out with this delay: how long shall wee Expect? whiles doubting, nothing thou wilt bee.

In Saletanum Epig. 65.

Why doe we see old Saletan so sad? Is the cause light? thou sayst his wife is dead. O the grand crime of fate! ô the sad chance! Is Secundilla dead? that did advance A thousand sesterties in dowry to thee? O would this hap had neer came to undoe thee!

De Fannio Epig. 80.

When Fannius should have scaped his Foe, His own hands stopt his breath: And was't not madness I would know, By dying to 'scape death;

In Mamercum Epig. 88.

Thou nought recit'st, and yet wouldst bee Thought Poet on that score: Be what thou wilt Mamercus free, So thou wilt speak no more.

Ad Quinctilianum Epig. 90.

O thou great master of the youth of Rome Quinctilian, the glory of the gowne! Pardon though poor, nor struck in yeares, I hast To live, since no man strives to live too fast: Let him delay that's Fathers rents would raise, And fill his house with shapes of antient days, Me fire, and houses please smoakd with their steame, A native sallet, and a living stream, A bond-man serves my turne, an unlearnd wife, A night with sleep, a day without all strife.

Lib. 3.

Epig. 9.

CInna writes verses against me tis said, He writes not, whose bad verse no man doth read.

In Candidum Epig. 26.

Candidus has alone fine farmes, gold, coyne, Myrrh, and drinks Caecuba and Massick wine▪ Has the sole wisdom, and the only wit, Enjoyes the world alone and all in it. But has he all alone? that I deny: His wife with ours is in community,

Ad Gargilianum Epig. 30.

No money's payd, yet gratis eat'st my cheare, But when at Rome (Gargilian) what dost there? Whence hast thou house-rent? or whence a coat? How canst thou pay thy wench? whence hast a groat?

Though with much reason thou art said to live, Yet how thou dost it none can reason give.

Ad Rufinum Epig. 31.

I grant thy large spread fields yeild much to thee And to thy Citty houses great farmes bee, The debtors to thy chest are numerous, And golden tables furnish out thy house: Yet doe not scorn, such as inferiour bee; Since other men have greater wealth then thee.

In Matriniam Epig. 32.

Matrinia asks if I can love A woman that is old: And such a one I doe approve, But thou art dead and cold. I can embrace old Hecub's itch, Or Niobe all one; But not till she's turnd to a bitch, The other to a stone.

Qualem puellam velit Epig. 33.

I'de rather have the gentile lass, But if she be denyd? The Libertine shall freely pass, And with my fancy side.

The hand-maid which excels them both, Comes in the latest place: If that she have in very troth, But an ingenious face?

In Pollam Epig. 42.

Cause Polla thou dost strive so fine With paint to smooth thy wrinckled groin, Thou daubst thy belly, not thy lips to mee, And peradventure in simplicitie The smaller fault lyes open freely still, That which is hid is thought the greater ill.

In Lentinum Epig. 43.

Lentinus Counterfeits his youth With Periwigs I trow, But art thou changd so soon in truth, From a Swan to a Crow? Thou canst not all the world deceive, Proserpine knows thee gray: And shee'le make bold without your leave, To take your Cap away.

Ad Ligurinum Epig. 45.

Whether sacred Phaebus fled (my Ligurine) Thyestes feast? I Know not; we fly thine: Though that thy Table's rich and nobly spread, Yet thy sole talke knocks all th'enjoyment dead.

I care not for thy Barbles, Turbots, Plase, Thy Oysters, nor thy Mushrooms, hold thy peace.

Ad Tongilianum Epig. 52.

Thy house two hundred pounds (Tongilian) cost, Which by a frequent chance of fire was lost: Thy Brief rose ten times more: let me require Was't not thy plot to set thy house on fire?

Ad Chloën Epig. 53.

I could not freely want thine eyes, Thy praised neck, and hands, and thighs, Thy paps, thy giblets, and thy hips, And least I should quite tyre my lips Thy several parts to minde to call Chloë in short I'de want thee all.

In Gelliam Epig. 55.

Where ere thou comm'st we think Cosmus goes by, As from crackd viols spices cast their smel: I care not for thy forreign frippery, For at this charge my dog shall smell as well.

In Cinnam Epig. 61.

What ere thou askdst (Cinna) tis nought said by thee: If it be nothing? nothing I deny thee.

In Cotilum. Epig. 63.

Cotilus thou art calld a pretty man, I hear, but tell, what is that pretty than? Hee's pretty, that in order curles his haire, Or smells all baulm or Cinnamon most rare. That Nile's loose songs, or Gaditane doth sing, And into various modes his arms doth swing. Hee that in crowds of females wasts the day, And in their ears has somewhat still to say, That reades; then writes new letters here and there, And nicely leanes not on his neighbor's chair: That knowes whom each man loves, that runs through feasts, Blazons Nirpinus great Grand-Fathers crests. What sayst? is this thy pretty man? this tool? He then that's pretty's but a fribling fool.

Ad Lauferam. Epig. 72.

Thou darest be nought, yet wilt not bathe wtih mee, I know no guilt to ground thy jealousie. Either thy ragged brests hang ugly down, Or being naked, fearst to shew thy own, Else thy torn groin, gapes with a monstrous slit, Or fome prodigious thing hangs over it;

If none of these? thou art a beauteous tool, If true? thou hast a worse fault, th'art a fool.

In Lupercum Epig. 75.

Lupercus now thy—has left to stand, Yet thou striv'st madly him up to command. But scallions and lose rochets nought prevail, And heightning meats in operation fayl; Thy wealth begins thy pure cheeks to defile, So venery provok'd lives but awhile. Who can admire enough, the wonder's such, That thy not standing stands thee in so much?

Ad Apicium Epig. 80.

Apicius nere complains, does no man wrong, Yet the voyce goes, he has a filthy tongue.

In Tongilionem Epig. 84.

What does thy Strumpet say Tongilion? I doe not mean thy wench, what then? thy tongue.

De Galla Epig. 90.

My Galla will, and will not buss, My fancy never could; By willing and not willing thus, Suppose what Galla would.

In Ʋetustillam Epig. 93.

Thou Ʋetustill hast liv'd three hundred years, Hast but four teeth in all, and but three hairs, A grashoper's thin waist, an emet's thigh, A brow more wrinkled then old wives gowns bee, Dugs like the webs of spiders, and if Nile Should with thy chops compare her Crocodile, His jawes would seem but streight: the frogs that bee Bred at Ravenna croke better then thee, The Adrian gnats sing sweeter, birds of night Blinded in morning beames equall thy sight, Thou smellst all hee-goat, hast a rump as fine As the extream end, of a lean duck's chine: The bony tout out-vyes th' old Cinnick quite, When she the bath-man with extinguish'd light Admits among the bustuary sluts, When August brings a winter to thy guts, Nor yet can thaw thee with a pestilence, After two hundred deaths, darest thou com∣mence Bride still? and seek a husband in thy dust To raise an itch? what though he harrow must A stone? who'le call thee wife, or ought that's so? Whom thy last mate, call'd grandam long ago: And if thou askst thy carkase scratchd to bee, Lame Coricles shall make thy bed for thee;

He that alone becomes thy bridal cheare, The burner of dead bodies best can beare A taper at thy nuptials, torches can Best enter at the Salli-port of man.

In Naevolum Epig. 95.

Naevolus nere salutes first, but replies, Which the taught crow, himself seldome denies. Why dost expect this from mee Naevolus? Since thou art not more great nor good then us? Both Caesars have rewarded my due praise, And me to th' priv'ledg of three sons did raise, I'me read by every mouth, known through the town, And before death receive my quick renown, And this is worth your note I'me Tribune too, And sit where that Oceanus caps you; How many by great Caesar's grant are made Free denizons because by me twas prayd? The number far exceeds thy family, But thou art buggred Naevolus, feedst high, Now now thou over-comst me sheere, thus, thus, Thou art my betters, Salve Naevolus.

Ad Cerdonem Epig. 99.

Why art offended (Cerdo) with my book? Thy life, and not thy person's by me strook,

Then suffer harmless-wit, why is't not due For me to sport? when stabbing's free to you?

Lib. 4.

De Natali Domitiani Epig. 1.

THis is great Caesar's day, and far above That wherein Ide produced mighty Jove. Mayst thou come long! and and Nestor's years fullfill, And with this, or a better face, shine still. May he adore his Sea-god in rich gold, And let his hands great Jove's tree still infold! May he enjoy the Serpent-ages long, Such as Terentus consecrates in song! Tis much we ask, ye Gods, but to us due, And since tis Caesar, what is much to you?

Ad Faustinum Epig. 10.

Whiles that thy book is new and rough, and feares To have its undryed page took by the ears, Goe boy, present this small gift to my friend▪ He that deserves my toys at the first end:

Run, but yet let the sponge accompanie The book, for it becomes each gift from mee. Faustinus tis not many blots we say, Can mend my merry flashes, one blot may.

In Thaidem Epig. 12.

Thais denyes no man: If no shame thence spring? Yet let this shame thee, to deny no-thing.

De Nuptiis Pudentis & Claudiae Epig. 13.

Strange, Claudia's married to a friend of mine, O Hymen be thou ready with thy Pine! Thus the rare Cinnamons with the Spicknard joyne: And the Thesean sweets, with massick wine. Nor bettor doe the Elm and Vine embra ce, Nor the Lote tree affect the fenny place. Nor yet the Myrtles more Love and desire the shore. Let a perpetual peace surround thy bed, And may their loves with equall fire be fed! May she so love him old, that to him shee, Though old indeed, may not seem so to bee.

De Selio Epig. 21.

Selius affirnes there are no gods, And that the heavens are voyd: And well he proves what he avers, Whiles he lives undestroyd.

De Cleopatra Epig. 22.

The virgin danger pass'd, the Bride enraged, Sweet Cleopatra to be disengaged And, scarce mine armes dives in the baths most cleare: But the kind waters soon betrayd her there, For though thus hid her glories did appeare, Like to soft Lillies in a christal grave, Or Roses closed in Gemms no cover have; With that I div'd, and cropd the strugling kisses, Ye glittering streames forbad the other blisses.

Ad Fabianum Epig. 24.

Lycoris kills up all his wives apace, I would he had my wife in the same chace!

Ad Hyppodamum, Epig. 31.

Cause thou desirest to be read and named So in my books, as by it to be famed, Let me not live the thing much pleases mee, And in my lines I would insert thee free, But that thy name is so averse to all The Muses, which thy Mother did thee call, Which nor Melpom'ne, nor Poly'mnia may Nor sweet Calliope with Phaebus say. Adopt thee then some grateful name to us, How wretchedly this sounds? Hyppodamus?

De Ape electro inclusa, Epig. 32.

Shining and yet shut up in th' amber drop, The Bee as clos'd in its own waxe did lye, Of all her labours reaping this the crop: It's credible she fancied thus to dye.

Ad Gallum, Epig. 38.

Galla deny: love's glutted if the joy At first doe not seem coy: But Galla yet take care least you deny Too long, and fancy dy.

Ad Colinum, Epig. 54.

O thou to whom tis free to wear Jov's Tree, And with his first leaves honoured to bee, If thou art wise, enjoy thy days repast, Colinus think the present still the last: The fatal Sisters grant no wish'd delay To any, but observe the destin'd day. Wert▪ thou more rich than Crispus, constanter Then ••hrasea's self, more free than Melior, Lachesis adds no tow, the spindles be Unwound, the thred's cut by one of three.

In Gargillianum, Epig. 56.

Cause thou bestow'st vast gifts on aged men, And widdows struck in years, Gargilian,

Wouldst have me call thee bountiful for this? Nothing's more base than thou, nought more vile is. Which mayst thy gifts thine ambuscadoes call, So the false hooks indulge the fishes fall, So the sly bayt traps silly beasts and all, Knowst thou not how to give? how to be free? I'le teach thee then Gargilian: give to mee.

De vipera electro inclusa, Epig. 59.

Whiles up the Viper climbes the weeping boughs, The amber drop the strugling beast ore flowes, Wondring to see himself in rich dew found, The freezing gemm inclosed him quickly round. Boast not then Cleopatra of thy Tombe Since a Snake lyes in a more noble room.

De Curiatio, Epig. 60.

Ardea in the solstice we desire, And baths the Cleonaean Star doth heat, Bur Curiatius death condemns their sweat, Since in those praised streames he did expire, 'No place excludes the fates: when death shall come, 'Sardinia is in the midst of Rome.

Ad Quinctum, Epig. 72.

Quinctus requires I should give him my books: I have them not, at Tryphon's he may speed: Shall I buy toys (quoth he) with sober looks? And verse? l'me not so mad: nor I indeed.

In Zoilum invidum, Epig. 77.

I never askd the gods for gold, Content with mean things, and my own, Now povety let me be bold I ask thee pardon to be gone. But what is the cause of this vote for pelf; I would see Zoilus hanging of himself.

In Ʋarum, Epig. 78.

Ʋarus did lately me to supper call, The furniture was rich, the Feast but small: The Table's spread with plate, not meat: they put Much to accost the eyes, nought for the gut. We came to feast our bellies, not our eyes: Pray take away your gold, give us some Pyes.

In Afrum, Epig. 79.

Now that the sixtieth harvest thou hast known, And that thy face with snow is over-grown Thou runn'st through all the Citty, every seat, And bringst thine Ave in a toylsome sweat,

Nor can a man salute a Tribune free, There's never a Consul can be rid of thee. To Caesar's House thou walkst ten times a day▪ And talkst of nothing less than Courtiers gay, (Afer) tis bad in Boyes that go to School, Nought's more absurd than an old medling fool.

De Bassa, Epig. 88.

Thy Bassa's used to place a childe up by her, And calls it her delight her pretty pinck: Yet loves no childe, which thou mayst more admire, What then's the cause? why, Bassa's wont to stinck.

Lib. 5.

Ad Lectores. Epig. 2.

Ye Matrons, Boyes, and Vigins neat, To you my Page I dedicate, Thou whom more shameless sports delight, And naked pleasant wit, invite. Thy fancy to my foure first books: This fifth shall sport with Caesar's looks. Which great Domitian may be bold, Before his Goddess to unfold.

Ad Vulcanum. Epig. 7.

As ruines renovate th' Assyrian nests, When twice five ages the sols bird hath spent: So Rome her old decrepitness digests, Dress'd in the visage of her president. Now (Vulcan,) I beseech forget and spare Our greife, w'are Mars and Venus progenie: So thy loose wife shall passe the Lemnian snare, And in chast love affect thee patiently.

Ad Regulum de fama Poetarum. Epig. 10.

What's this? that fame to living men's denyd. And Readers their own Lines seldom affect? (Regulus) these are tricks of envious pride, The present still for old things to reject. So most ingrate wee seek old Pompey's shades, And praise the tottered fane of Catulus. While Maro liv'd, Ennius whole Rome invades And Homer's age laughd him rediculous. Crowned Menander seldom heard a shout, Corinna her owne Naso knew alone, O my small books nere hasten to goe out, If praise come after death I'le not go on.

In Calistratum. Epig. 13.

Calistratus I doe confesse I have been poor, and am no lesse, But not obscurely base as yet, Nor a Knight of the lowest seat. But through the world I'me freely read, And as I passe here's he tis said, What dust and ashes give to some, My life affords without a Tombe. But thy house leans on stately props, Thy chests inclose great silver crops, Rich Aegypts glebes thy houshold keep, And Parma sheare thy numerous sheep. Thus what we are we both may see, But what I am thou canst not be,

What thou art each plebeian may With thy estate be any day.

In Gelliam, Epig. 17.

Whiles Gellia cryd up her Fore-fathers House, And our low Knight-hood valued not a lowse, While's she denied all under the Broad Key, A Basket-bearer swept her quite away.

De Crispo, Epig. 33.

Crispus by will no doit of all his pelf Gave to his wife: whom then? even to him∣self.

In Caussidicum, Epig. 34.

A Lawyer's said unknown my Book to flout, But wo be to thee, if I finde thee out.

De Erotio, Epig. 35.

Ye Parents Fronto and Flaccilla here To you I doe commend my Girle, my Deare, Least pale Erotion tremble at the shades, And the fowl Dog of Hell's prodigious heads, Her age fullfilling just six winters was, Had she but known so many dayes to pass. 'Mongst you old Patrons may she sport and play, And with her lisping tongue my name oft say. May the smooth turf her soft bones hide, and bee O Earth as light to her as she to thee!

Quod datur non perire, Epig. 43.

A Thief may break thy Chests, and steal thy gold, A fire consume thy Fathers House of old, Debtors detain thy use and principal, Thy sown seed bring thee no increase at all: A crafty Harlot may thy Steward plunder, Thy Ships and goods the rageing Seas sinck under: 'What's on thy friends bestow'd is above fate: 'Thy gifts thou still shalt have inviolate.

De Thaide & Lecania. Epig. 44.

Thais her teeth are black and nought, Lecania's white are grown, But what's the reason; these are bought, The other wears her own.

De Philone, Epig. 48.

Philo nere sups at home he swears: tis true, For not invited crib must want his due.

Ad Labienum, Epig. 50.

When (Labiene) by chance I thee did see Sitting alone, I thought thou hadst bin three. The number of thy baldnesse me deceivd, For here and there thy haires I then retreivd▪

Which a boy's head will hardly well become, Upon thy crown lyes a large vacant room, A floor wherein no hair's observ'd to bee. Yet this December's error yeilds to thee, That when the Emp'ror keeps his solemn day, Thou carry'st three shares of his almes away. Geryon I suppose was such a one, But when thou seest Phillippus Porch, begon▪ If Hercules shall spy thee th' art undone.

In Posthumum, Epig. 53.

What thou conferr'st on me I do Remember, and shall think on too. Why therefore doe I hold my tongue? Cause (Posthumus) thou nere hast done. As often as I go to treat Of these thy gifts to them I meet, Tis presently replyd, forbear, He whisperd it into my eare. Two men some things cannot doe well, One person may suffice to tell, And doe this work: if it may please That I shall speak, then hold thy peace. For prethee Posthumus believe Though that thy gifts are great to give, 'All thanks must perish, and are lost 'When Authors their own actions boast.

Ad Bassum, Epig. 54.

My Bassus why? why dost thou write Thyestes Feast? Medea's flight? What hast to doe with Niobe? Or Troys remains Andromache? Deucalion's feat's a theam more fit, Or Phaethon's to share thy wit.

Ad Lupum, Epig. 57.

Lupus is careful, and of me doth crave To know what Master for his Son to have? I give thee warning all Grammarians shun, And Rhetoricians too: then out upon Tullie's and Ʋirgill's barren books and name, Leave old Tutilius to enjoy his fame. If he makes verse? expell the Poet streight, But if he fancy Arts of richer weight, Let him turn Fidler, or a Minstrel bee, But if he's dull of ingenuitie? Make him a noble publique Citty Cryer, Or famous Architect that works by squire.

Ad Posthumum Epig. 59.

To morrow Posthumus, to morrow still Thou sayst thou'lt live: but Posthumus when will That morrow come? how far? where to be found? Is't in the Parthian, or Armenian ground?

Or can that morrow Priam's age out-boast? Or Nestor's? tell what will that morrow cost? Thou'lt live to morrow? this days life's too late, Hee's wise that liv'd before the present date.

Ad Detractorem, Epig. 91.

Though thou dost bark against me still With bitter yelpings of ill will, That fame shall sure thee be denyed In my books to be notified, Though tis desired of old by thee Through the world to be read with mee. For why should men know thou hast bin? Obscurely perish in thy sin. Yet peradventure there may bee In this great Citty two or three A dogs skin that would dain to gnaw, That scab my nails shall never claw.

In Marianum, Epig. 92.

Who is that Crispulus? (my Marian) That sticks so to thy wife? what is he man? I know not what that prattles in her eare? And leans with his right elboe on her chaire? Through all whose fingers her light ring doe•• run? Whose smoother legs no rough haire growes upon?

Reply'st thou not? he's one thou dost con∣fesse That doth solicite thy wife's businesse. A sharp observant lad, that wears the Proctor Lock'd in his looks, more strict than an old Doctor? How worthy thou deserv'st stage buffets thus? Or to succeed old blind Panniclus? Crispulus doe thy wife's work? he does none; Tis not thy wife's he does, but 'tis thy own.

Ad suos ministros, Epig. 65.

Callistus fill four cups of muscadine, And in coole snow my boy dissolve the wine. Let my moyst hair grow rich with perfume sweats, And tyre my brows with rose-bud coronets. The royal tombes commands us live: since they Teach that the very gods themselves decay.

Id Pontilianum, Epig. 67.

Pontilian nere salutes till after mee: So his farwel will everlasting bee.

De origine Bacchi, 73.

He that affirmes Jove, Bacchus mother, may Prove Semele his Father the same way.

Ad Theodorem, Epig. 74.

Why I nere give my books to thee Desiring, and beseeching mee, Dost wonder Theodore? the cause is cleare, That thine to me may not appeare.

De Pompeio, Epig. 75.

Great Pompey's Sons Europe and Asia both Interr, Lybia himselfe, if any doth? What wonder through the world to see him slain; So great a fall one field could not contain.

Ad Quinctum, Epig. 76.

(Quinctus) why Laelia married is to thee? Tis only once legitimate to bee.

Ad Cinnam, Epig. 77.

Oft drinking poyson prepared Mithridate, No venom could his brains intoxicate: So Cinna by bad meales so fixd doth grow, Hunger cannot prevail to starve him now.

Ad Aemilianum, Epig. 76.

If thou art poor Aemilian? Thou shalt be ever so. For no man now their presents can But on the rich bestow.

Lib. 6.

Adulatorium Caesarem, Epig. 4.

MOst Mighty Caesar, King of kings, to whom Rome owes so many tryumphs yet to come, So many Temples growing and restored, So many Spectacles, gods, Cities: Lord She yet in debt to thee doth more remain, That she by thee is once made chast again.

De Thelesina, Epig. 7.

(Faustinus) from the hour the Julian Law Revived, and chastity began to draw By publique Edict into every House, Scarce thirty days have pass'd, Since Thelesine was askd, And ten times over hath bin made a Spouse. She that doth wed so oft, weds not at all: But rather her we may more truly call A meer legitimate Adulteresse: A simple arrant wench offends me lesse

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De Fabulla, Epig. 12.

Fabulla sweares Those new bought hairs Paulus now by her worne, Are all her own, Most truly shown; Prethee is she for sworn? If thou deny, So cannot I.

Ad Priscum de Salonino, Epig. 18.

Salonine lyes interr'd in Spanish ground, A sweeter shade nere pass'd the Stygian sound. But it's a sin To mourn for him. For since (my Priscus) thou surviving art, He lives yet in his more beloved part.

Ad Posthumum Causidicum, Epig. 19.

No action of battery, Of murder, or of poyson, I Pursue: but of three Kids bereft I doe accuse my Neighbour's theft. The Judge requires how I it know: Thou tell'st th' Apulian overthrow, The Pontick war, and perjury Of H••••nibal's rash cruelty, Scylla and Marius, Mutius wrath, With open mouth, and spead armes both.

Now Posthumus I prethee tell At last where I my Kids may smell.

In Proculinam, Epig. 22.

Because thou joynst (my Proculine) In Marriage with thy Concubine, One that most palpably before Did only love thee as a Whore, Least that the Law thee should distresse, Thou dost not Marry but confesse.

In Lesbiam, Epig. 23.

Lesbia thou seemst my Thomas to command, As 'twere a finger at thy will to stand: Which though thou temp'st with flatt'ring hands and voice, Thy crosse grain'd face still countermands thy choice.

Epitaphium Glauciae, Epig. 28.

The free born Boy of Melior Which being dead, whole Rome mournd for, His dearest Patron's short delight, (Glaucias) interr'd in endlesse night Under this marble Tombe doth ly, The great Flaminian road hard by, Of modest life, and purely chast Accutely witty, and sweet faced, Just twice six Harvests he passd by Scarcely disroab'd of infancy,

O Traveller that these dost moan Mayst thou nere weep such of thine own!

De eodem, Epig. 29.

No Slave of a Plebeian House or kind, But a Lad worthy his Lord's love to finde, Glaucia my Meliar's manumitted Boy Scarce capable his gifts yet to enjoy, This boon with life and form he did partake, None look'd more lovely, none more sweetly spake. 'Things too much doted on live short: and such Thouwouldst love long, let them not please too much.

In Paetum, Epig. 30.

If thou hadst sent mee presentlie Six sesterties, when first to mee Thou saydst (my Paetus) take, I give, Ide ow'd there ten score as I live. But now to doe't with this delay When seaven or nine months slipd away, Wouldst have me tell thee what I think? Paetus th' hast clearly lost thy chinck.

De Morte, Othonis, Epig. 32.

Whiles yet Bellona doubts the warlike doom, And softer Otho might have overcome,

He stops the costly charge of blood in War, And by his sword fals his own murderer. He liv'd a Cato, more than Caesar too, Yet dying, how like Otho he did doe?

Ad Diadumenum, Epig. 34.

Seale me squeez'd kisses (Diadumene) How many? count the Billows of the Sea, Or spread Cockles on th' Aegaean shore, Or wandring Bees in the Cecropian store, Or th' hands and voices in the Theatre When Rome salutes her suddain Emperor: I slight how many courted Lesbia gave Catullus: he that numbers, few would have.

In Carinum, Epig. 37.

Medall so fine, Short breech'd (Carine) No vain superfluous reliques hast, Yet itchest from the head to th' wast! O wretch what pain Dost thou sustain? I'have no place for't, Yet love the sport?

In Lygdum & Lectoriam, Epig. 45.

Y'have playd, enough, lascivious cronies wed, No lust is lawfull but in marriage bed, Is this love chast? Lygdus and Lectore joyn? Shee'le prove a worse wife, than a Concubine.

In Pomponiam, Epig. 48.

Cause the long robe applaudes thine elo∣quence, Tis not thy self, thy supper strikes the sence.

De Thelesino, Epig. 50

Whiles Thelesine embraced his chast friends stil. His gown was short and thred-bare, cold and mean, But since he serv'd foul Gamesters and ob∣scaene Now he buyes Fields, Plate, Tables at his will. Wouldst thou grow rich Bithinicus? live vain: Pure kisses will yield none, or little gain.

Ad Luperlum, Epig. 51.

Cause thou dost feast so often without mee Luperlus, I have found a plague for thee. Though thou dost importune, and send, and call, I'le shew a seeming anger over all. And when thou sayst, what wilt thou? doe in summ What will I doe? I am resolv'd to come.

Epitaphium Pant••gathi, Epig. 52.

Here lyes interrd cropt in his youthful years Pantagathus, his Masters joy, and tears.

Learnd with a flying touch to trim loose hairs. And shave the brisly cheek that roughly stares, O earth lye pleasing! and light on him stand, Thou canst not be more light then was his hand.

In Phaebum, Epig. 57.

Phaebus belyes with Oyle his fained haires, And ore his scalp a painted border wears: Thou needst no Barber to corect thy pate, Phaebus a spung would better doe the feat.

In Invidum, Epig. 61.

Rome praises, loves, and sings my merry leaves, Me every bosom, every hand receives. One blushes, one growes pale, and one dis∣dains, One stands amazd, one hates me for my pains: This was my great desire, my wishd increas, Now now my verses, now my verses please.

Ad Marianum, Epig. 63.

Thou knowst thy self entrapd, and art aware How coveteous he was that layd the snare. And (Marian) needs must know his second care; Yet notwithstanding dost make him thine heir, And headily wouldst have him to succeed Thee in thy goods and lands by thy last Deed.

Tis true he sent rich gifts, but layd in wire, And can the Fish their murderer desire? Or will he (Marian) truly weep for thee? To have true tears, reverse thy Legac••e.

De praecone Pu••llam vendente, Epig. 66.

Gaellian the Cryer brought a Lass To market, of smale fame to pass, Such as in Baudy-houses sate: Whiles she stood long at a smale rate, He to approve her sound and good Drew her near to him as she stood, And kissd her three or four times ore But wouldst thou know what fruit these bore? Why he that bad six hundred pieces for her Upon this score did utterly abhor her.

Ad Pannicum de Gellia uxore, Epig. 67.

Pannicus dost desire to know Why thy Gellia keeps I trow Eunuches only with her still? Tis thy cunning Gellia's will, To have the secret active sport, Yet feel no throws nor anguish for't.

Ad Martianum, Epig. 70.

Cotta has livd full sixty years and more, And yet (my Martian) never felt the sore Affliction of a Feaver one short 'bout; Thence though unchastly holds his finger out

Against Alcontis, Dacus, Symmachus, But if our years were well computed thus, And what sharp Feavers have took from us, what Languishing grief, and sicknesse, we are not Less then divided from the happier day, We are but Boys in years and yet seem gray. He that conceives (my Martian) Priam's age, Or Nestor's to be long on the worlds stage, Is much deceived, much out: for I thee tell To be, is not call'd life, but to be well▪

De Cilice Fure, Epig. 72.

Cilix a knave of noted theft, Resolv'd to rob a Garden by: But there was nought (Fabullus) left But a huge Marble-dyetie. Yet least his empty hand should miss its prey, Cilix presumed to steal the god away.

Ad Lupum, Epig. 79.

How? Sad and rich? Beware least fortune catch Thee Lupus, then she'le call thee thanklesse wretch.

In mortem Rufi Camonii Epig. 85.

In th' absence (Rufus) my sixth Booke is out, But thou her Reader she doth sadly doubt,

Base Capadocia by a fate unjust Gives to thy friends thy bones, to thee thy dust. Widdowd Bononia bathe friend in tears, While that Aemilia thy griefs eccho beares, How Pious? but how short lived did he fall? Five bare Olimpiads he had seen in all. Rufus thou that wast wont to bear in minde Out sports, and them in memory to finde Accept this sad verse which I send, As the sweet incense of thy absent friend.

De Thaide, Epig. 93.

Thais smells as ill as doth a Fullers vate That long hath steepd, broke in the street of late: The tyred Goats not more ranck, the breath and breech Of Lyons, nor stripd Dogs-skins in a ditch; Nor adle egg that putrifying lyes, Nor pot of rotten fish that stinking dyes. That she may change this plague for some sweet scent, Naked and oft she doth the Baths frequent, And shines with Oyle, lyes in sharp fennell hid, Or in bean meale twice or thrice covered. When safe by thousand slights her self she thinks, When all's done, Thais still all Thais stinks.

Lib. 7.

De reditu Domitiani, Epig. 7.

NOw sport, if ere, ye Muses with my vein, From the north world the god returnes again. December first brings forth the peoples vote, Tis just we cry, He comes, with open throat. Blest in thy chance, from Janus share the day Since what he'd give, thou givest to us, our joy. Let the crownd Souldier play his solemn sport, While he attends the bayes invested Court Tis right (great Caesar) our light jokes to heare, Since that thy Tryumph them doth love and beare.

De Casselio, Epig. 8.

When sixty years Casselius has liv'd meet, He's witty: when will he be cald discreet?

Ad Faustinum, Epig. 11.

(Faustinus) to let Caesar read my booke With that same face he on my spots doth look. As my Page hurts no one it justly hates, I like no glory gain'd at blushrng rates. What does it profit me? if others whet Their spleen in my stile? and Jambiques sweat? And in my name their viprous poyson vent? Which cannot brook the day? or orient? We blameless sport. Thou know'st it well, I swear By Helicon, and every Genius there; And by thy ears as dieties to mee, Reader, I'me from inhumane envy free.

Ad Regulum, Epig. 15.

I have no money (Regulus) at home, Only thy gifts to sell, wilt thou buy some?

In Gallum, Epig. 17.

When th' hast a face of which no woman may And body without blur, have ought to say, Why suitors thee so seldom doe repeat And seek, dost wonder Galla? the fault's great, As oft as thou and I in the worke joynd, Thy lips were silent, but thou prat'st behinde.

Heavens grant that thou wouldst speak, but bridle that, I'me angry with thy tatling Twit com Twat. I'de rather hear thee fart: for Symmachus Says that's a means of laughter unto us. But who can smile to hear the foolish smack Of thy loose Toul? and when it gives a crack Whose minde and mettle will not fall? at least Speak somthing that may usher in a jest Of thy C—'s noise: but if thou art so mute, Articulately learn thence to dispute.

De natali Lucani, ad Pollam, Epig. 20

This is the day known by its mighty birth Which Lucane gave to thee, and to the Earth O cruel Prince! more cursd in no decree, This at least was not lawfull unto thee.

In Malum Poetam. Epig. 24.

When thou dost write sweet Epigrams alway, Which look more smooth than painted fea∣tures may, Without one grane of salt, or dropp of gall, Omad man wouldst thou have them read at al? Meat does not please without it's vinegar, Nor faces which in mirth nere wrinckled are, Give luscious Figs and Pomes to Boyes: but mine That please, are Figs that rellish Salt and Wine.

In Caeliam, Epig. 29.

To Parthians, Germans, Dacians thou art spread, In Cappidocians and Cilicians bed. From Memphis comes a whipster unto thee, And a Black Indian from the red Sea; Nor dost thou fly the circumcised Jew, Nor can the Muscovite once passe by you; Why being a Roman lasse dost do thus? tell, Is't cause no Roman-knack can please so well?

De Caelio, Epig. 38.

When various walks, and dayes in wandring on, And pride, and great mens salutation, Caelius could not endure, and bear about, He feign'd himself tormented with the gout, Which while he strove to personate too much, In a laborious gate upon his crutch, Binding, and 'noynting his sound feet: O see How much the care and curiositie, And Art of feigned grief, did work and please! Caelius has left dissembling his disease.

Ad Licinium Suram, Epig. 46.

Licinius! thou crown of learned men! Whose tongue brought back our Grand-fa∣thers agen, Thou art restored, but with how great a fate? Returnd almost from the eternal gate, Our wishes now had loss'd their fear: secure Our tears did weep thy losse as pass'd all cure. But yet the King of death could not sustain Our grief, and sent the fates their threds again. Thou knowst what moan thy false death mo∣ved for thee, Enjoy thy self in thy posteritie. Live as thine own surviver, hug thy joy: A life returnd will never loose a day.

De Annio, Epig. 47.

Annius two hundred Tables has I think, And for those Tables Boyes to fill him drink. The platters fly, And charges run about most fluently. Rich men take to your selves these Feasts and stir, I care not for your walking supper Sir.

In umbrem, Epig. 52.

The five dayes presents which were given to thee In the Saturnal Feasts thou sendst to mee.

Twelve threefoot Tables, and seven tooth pic∣kers, A Sponge, a Napkin, and a Cup with ears, Two Pecks of Beans, of Olives one smal twig, A bottle of course Spanish Wine to swig. Smal Syrian Figs with musty damsins came, And a huge cask of Lybian figs o'th same: Thy gifts were worth scarce five shillings in all, Which to me saild on thy eight Syrians tall. With how much ease mightst thou have sent in short Me five pounds by thy Boy and nere sweat fort.

De Caecilianum, Epig. 58.

Without a Bore Caecilan neere doth feast, (Titus) Caecilan has a pretty guest.

In Cinnamum, Epig. 63.

Thou wast a Barber through the Citty known, Though by thy Mistris raised to the gown, Of Knight-hood (Cinnamus) when thou shalt fly The judgment of the Court to Sicily, What Art shall then sustain thy uselesse age? How will thy Fugitive rest foot the stage? Thou canst not be Grammarian, Rhetorician, Fencer, nor Cinick on any condition▪

Nor yet a Stoick, nor canst sell thy tongue Or thy applause in the Sicilian throng: What then (my Cinnamus) doth yet re∣main? Why thou must e'en turn shaver once a∣gain.

In Gargilanum, Epig. 64.

Full twenty years (Gargilian) thou hast lost In one suit in three Courts to thy great cost. O mad and wretched! that in strifes dost run Through twenty years, and mayst be over∣come?

De Labieno, Epig. 65.

Fabius left Labian heir to all his store: Yet Labian sayes that he deserved more.

Ad Maximum, Epig. 72.

Thou hast a house on the Aventine hill, Another where Dianan's worshipped still, In the Patrician street more of them stand, Hence thou beholdst within thine eyes com∣mand The widdowed Cybells, thence Vesta with all, There either Jove earth'd in the Capitall. Where shall I meet thee? tell, where wilt appear. 'He dwels just no where, that dwels every where.

In anum deformem, Epig. 74.

Wouldst thou be wimbled gratis when thou art A wrinkled wretch deformd in every part? O tis a thing more than ridiculous: To take a man's full sum, and not pay Use?

Ad Philomusum, 75. Epig.

Cause great ones carry thee themselves to please To Feasts, to Galleries, and Spectacles, And Coach thee up and down, and bathe with thee As oft as thou jump'st in their company: Nere hug thy self for this, or look proud for't, Th'art not beloved, but onely makest them sport.

In Tuccam, Epig. 76.

Tucca most earnestly doth look, I should present him with my Book: But that I will not: For I smell My Book he will not read, but sell.

Ad Lausam, Epig. 80.

(Lausus) just thirty Epigrams in all, My volume thou most truly bad mayst call: But if beside so many good there be, The Book is good enough then credit me.

De Eutrapelo, Epig. 82.

While that the Barber went to trim And shave Lupercus chops and chin, He was so tedious on the face Another beard grew in the place.

Ad Sabellum, Epig. 84.

Cause thou dost pen Tetrasticks clean and sweet And some few pretty disticks with smooth feet, I praise but not admire: Tis easie to acquire Short modest Epigrams that pretty look, But it is hard and tough▪ to write a book.

In Sextum, Epig. 85.

Sextus was wont me to his feasts to call, When I was scarce made known to him at a•••• What have I done so late? so sudenly? That I his old companion am pass'd by? After so many pledges, many years? But I perceive the cause: no gift appea•• Of beaten silver from me, no light coat No cloak, fee, or negotiating groat. Sextus invites his gifts, but not his friends▪ Then cryes his servants bones shall make amends.

Epitaphium Ʋrbici Pueri, Epig. 95.

My Parents grief I here lye in this Tombe, Who had my birth and name from mighty Rome: Six months I wanted of three years to mee, When my life's thred was cut by destinie. What favour shall age, tongue, or beauty have? Thou that readst this shed some teares on my grave. So he that thou wouldst have thy self survive, Shall longer then decrepit Nestor live.

De Milone, Epig. 101.

Milo is not at home, but travell'd out, His fields ly barren, but his wife doth sprout: But why's his land so bare? his wife so full? His land has none, his wife has many a pull.

Lib. 8.

Ad Librum suum, Epig. 1.

THou that art entring the tryumphant Court, Learn with a blushing grace more chast to sport. Strip'd Ʋenus hence: this is not thy book, Great Caesar's goddess come, and on me look.

Ad Caesarem Domitianum, Epig. 4.

How great a concourse of the world doth bring Their I ô? and make prayers for their king? But this is not alone a humane joy, Caesar, the gods themselves keep Holy-day.

In Cinnam, Epig. 7.

Cinna is this to plead? and wisely say Only nine words in ten hours of the day? But with a mighty voyce thou cravest for thee The hour-glass twice two times revers'd to bee, Cinna, how great's thy taciturnitie!

Ad Quinctum, Epig. 9.

Nine ounces blear-ey'd Hylas would have payd Now dusk he tenders half thy debt delayd: Take his next offer: gain's occasion's short, If he prove blinde, thou wilt have nothing for't.

De Basso, Epig. 10.

Bassus bought cloaks of the best Tyrian dy, Forbear ten thousand pieces, gaind thereby: But was his bargain so good cheap you'le say? He took it upon trust, or stole't away.

Ad Priscum, Epig. 12.

Dost ask why I'de not marry a rich wife? I'le not be subject in that double strife. Let matrons to their heads inferior be Else man and wife have no equalitie.

De Cinna, Epig. 19.

Cinna would seem to need, And so he does indeed.

Ad Luciferum, Epig. 21.

Phosphor produce the day: why dost delay Our joys? lo, Caesar comes, produce the day. Rome begs it. What slow Chariot carryes thee? What signe? that thy sweet rayes retarded bee?

Take Cyllaron from the Ledaean Star, Castor himself will lend his Horse for war, Why dost rein in the forward eager Sun? Apollo's Courser with their harness on, Aurora waites: but yet the spangled night Will not give room to the more glorious light, Diana longs to see the Ausonian king, Come Caesar, though in night, thy presence bring: For though the Stars their revolution stay, Thee coming we shall never want a day.

Ad Caesarem Domitianum, Epig. 24.

If I in fear chance to petition thee, If I'me not impudent, vouchsafe it mee. If thou'lt not grant, daign to be askd in love, Incense and Prayers ne're offended Jove. 'He that an Image frames in gold or stone, 'Makes not a god, he that kneels, makes it one.

In Oppianum, Epig. 25.

Oppiane thou only once didst come to see Me very sick: I'le oftner visit thee.

Ad Gaurum, Epig. 27.

Gaurus he that doth gifts bestow On thee both rich and old, If thou art wise thou needs must know Hee'd have thee dead and cold.

In pessimos Conjuges, Epig. 35.

When that yee are so like in life An extream wicked man and wife, I wonder how you live in strife.

Ad Priapum, Epig. 40.

No Guardian of a Garden, or vine bud, But (my Priapus) of a mighty wood, From whence th'art born, and again born mayst bee, I charge thee keep all thievish hands from me. Preserve thy Masters grove for firing too, For if that faile, we shall finde wood in you.

Ad Faustinum, Epig. 41.

Sad Athenagoras us no presents sent Which in the winter he did still present: I'le see (Faustinus) if he be so sad, I'm sure he me hath truly sorry made.

Ad Cestum Puerum, Epig. 46.

How sweet's thy vertue, and thy shape to us? Cestus my Boy, chast as Hippolitus! Diana's self may teach, and swim with thee, More wish'd then Phrygus by old Cybele. Thou mayst succeed Ganymede in his place, And unsuspected Smug the Thund'rer's face. O happy she shall climbe thy tender bed! And make thee man first for a maiden head!

In variè se tondentem, Epig. 47.

Part of thy hair is shorn, part shaved to thee, Part pull'd: who'le think it but one head to be.

De Aspro, Epig. 49.

Blinde Asper loves a lass that beauteous is, Yet as it seems he loves more than he sees.

Ad Caesarem Domitianum, Epig. 54.

Though thou givest great boons oft, and wilt give more O King of Kings, and thy self's Conquerour! The people love thee not cause they partake Thy Blessings: But thy Blessings for thy sake.

Ad Flaccum, Epig. 56.

When to our age times may subscribe of yore, And Rome's encreased great with her Empe∣rour, Dost wonder Maro's fancy wanting is? And none sound wars like that brave Trump of his? Let patrons (Flaccus) Poets soon will bee, Thy Country shall yield Ʋirgil unto thee. When near Cremona Tytirus did weep His wretched acres, and loss'd flock of sheep The royal Tuscan smiled: Fell poverty Repuls'd, and by command away to fly:

Bad him be rich, and best of Poets bee, And cryed my sweet Alexis love with mee. He that most amiable did waiting stand Filling black falerne wine with snowy hand, And tasted cups gave to his rosie lip, Which might solicite Jove himselfe to sip. Course Galatea from the Poet drops, And Sun-burnt Thestilis in harvest crops. Forthwith he fancied Rome, arms, and the Prince: Which the poor Gnat mournd but a moment since. What should I quote the Ʋari? Marsi? and The glorious names of Poets rich in land? Which to recfunt would be a tedious pain? Shall I then be thy Virgil, if again Thou wilt Maecenas bounty shew to mee? I'le not thy Virgil, but thy Marsus bee.

De Picente, Epig. 57.

Old Picens had three teeth which from him come As he sat coughing hard over his Tombe: Which fragments he tooke up into his brest Dropd from his mouth: Then laid his bones to rest. Least that his Heire should not them safely s••e Interr'd: He did himself the curtesie.

Ad Entellum, Epig. 68.

Oh that the famed Alcinous garden sees May well prefer (Entellus) thine to his. Least nipping winter peirce the purpl•• grapes, And on the Vines smart Frosts commit their rapes. Thy vintage in a gem inclosed lyes, And the Grape cover'd, not hid from our eyes. So female shapes shine through their Tifanie, And Pibbles in the waters numbred bee, What would not nature free, to wit, im∣part? When winter's made an Autumn by thy art.

In Ʋacerram, Epig. 69.

Thou only dost admire old Poets past, And praisest none but such have writ their last: Hence I beseech (Ʋacerra) pardon mee, Tis not worth perishing to humor thee.

Ad Liberum amicum, Epig. 77.

(Liber) thy friends sweet care! worthy to bee Crownd with Rose-buds to all eternitie! Art wise? still let thy hair with unguents flow! While flowry garlands compasse in thy brow!

May thy clear glass with falerne wine black prove! And thy soft bed growe warme with softer love! A life thus led, though in its youth resign'd, Is made much longer than it was design'd.

In Fabullum, Epig. 79.

When wrinckled Beldames thy familiars bee, Or filthy Bauds, or worse if ought you see, When these compagnions thou dost leade a∣long Through every Feast with thee, and walke, and throng, (Fabulla) thus compared we needs must say Th' art handsome and dost bear the bell a∣way.

Lib. 9.

Ad Domitianum, Epig. 4.

IF thou shouldst challenge what is due to thee From heaven, and its creditor wouldst bee; If publique sale should be cryed through the sphaeres, And th' gods sell all to satisfy arrears, Atlas will banq'rrupt prove, nor one ounce bee Reserved for Jupiter to treat with thee. What canst thou for the Capitol receive? Or for the honour of the Laurel-wreath? Or what will Juno give thee for her shrine? Pallas I pass, she waits on thee and thine. Alcides, Phaebus, Pollux I slip by And Flavia's Temple neighb'ring on the sky. Caesar thou must forbear, and trust the heaven: Jove's Chest has not enough to make all e∣ven.

In Aeschylum, Epig. 5.

When for two guilders Galla thou might'st swive, And more then so if thou it double give: Aeschylus why did she take ten of thee? The feate's not worth it: what? the secresie.

In Paullam, Epig. 6.

Paulla thou very fain wouldst Priscus wed, I wonder not, tis witty so to doe: But Priscus will not medle with thy bed, And therein he is full as witty too.

In amicum Caenipetam, Epig. 15.

Dost think this man whom thy Feast makes thy freind A heart of faithfull friendship can pretend? He loves thy brawn thy oysters, but not thee, Let me sup so, he shall be friend to mee.

In Afrum, Epig. 26.

As oft as we thy Hyllus doe behold Filling thy wine, thy browes doe seem to scold, What crime is't, I would know to view thy Boy? We look upon the gods, the stars, the day, Shall I fling back as when a Gorgon lyes Steep'd in the cup? and hide my face and eyes?

Great Hercules was feirce in crueltie Yet we might see his pretty Hylas free: Nor would great Jove have ought in wrath to say If Mercury with Ganimede did play. (Afer) if then we must not view thy loose Soft ministers that serve thee in thy house, Invite such men as Phineas to bee Thy guests or Oedipus that nere could see.

Epitaphium Latini, Epig. 29.

The stage his sweet renown, the fame Of playes, Latinus known by name, I here lye seiz'd in deaths cold night, Thy great applause, thy delight. I that could make strict Cato be My joy'd spectator, and at mee The Curii and Fabricii smile And loose their gravity the while. But yet my life nere bore away▪ Ought from the theatre or play, I only there did act my part Not out of nature, but by art. Nor could I to great Caesar bee Grateful without my vanitie. Yet Deifi'd Domitian might See that my inward parts were right. But ye may call me at your will A Parasite of Phoebus still,

While Rome may know me rais'd above Into the family of Jove.

Qualem velit amicam, Epig. 33.

I love a Lasse that's apt, and plain doth goe, And with my Boy hath had a bout or t••o. And her that two-pence makes her mine all ore, And being one can tugg with▪half a Score, Shee that asks pay, and in bigg straines doth ball, Let her bee drudg to thickskinn'd Burdigal.

In Ponticum. Epig. 42.

(Ponticus) Cause thou ne're doth swive, But some by-lusts contentment give, And thy more conscious hands supply The service of thy venery: Dost think that this is no offence? (Believe it) it's damn'd excellence Is of so foule and high a weight Thou can'st not reach it in conceipt. Horace but once did doe the feat That he three glorious twins might get, Mars and chast Ilia once did joyn That Rome's great founders they might coyn. All had been loss'd, had either's list, Spent his foule pleasure in his fist. When thus then thou shalt tempted bee Think that Dame nature cryes to thee,

That which thy fingers doe destroy O Ponticus it is a Boy.

In Gaurum. Epig. 51.

Gaurus approves my wit but slenderly, Cause I write verse that please for brevity. But he in twenty volumes drives a trade Of Priam's warrs. O hee's a mighty blade! We give an Elegant young pregnant birth, He makes a dirty Gyant all of earth.

In Mamurram. Epig. 60.

Mamurra, long and much stalk'd up and down The stalls, where all the goods are sold in Rome, Beholds the boyes, and with them feeds his eyes, Nere prostitute from their first cottages, Such whom the Cages kept in secresie, Close from my cronies and the peoples eye, Thence ful, he calls for the round tables down, And t' have the high placed Ivory open showne, And measuring the Tortoise beds thrice ore, As too small for his Cypress groaned sore. Then smells if purely Corinth the brass scent, And Delian statues give him no content. Complains the crystalls mix'd with Courser glass. Marks myrrhine Cupps, and ten aside doth place,

Cheapens old baskets and if any were Wrought cups by noble Mentur's cunning there, And numbers the green Em'ralds layd in gold, Or any from the eares that take their hold, Then seeks true gems in table boards most nice. And of rich pretious Jaspers asks the price. Tyred and departing when the eleventh houre come, He bought two farthing cupps, and carr'd them home.

In Aeschylum, Epig. 68.

I enjoyd a buxsom lass all night with mee, Which none could overcome in venerie. Thousand wayes tyred, I askd that childish thing, Which she did grant at the first motioning, Blushing and laughing I a worse besought, Which she most loose vouchsafed as quick as thought. Yet she was pure, but if she deale with you Shee'l not be so, and thou shalt pay dear too.

In Caecilianum, Epig. 71.

O times! ô manners! Tully cry'd of old When Cat••line his curs'd plot did unfold, When Caesar and great Pompey took the field, And civill war with blood the ground did guild.

Why dost thou cry ô times, ô manners now? What doth displease (Caecilian) what cramps you? There's not contest of Princes, no swords rage▪ But peace and gladness all the world asswage▪ 'Tis not our guilt makes the times bad to thee, 'Thy own (Caecilian) force them such to bee.

In Sutorem, Epig. 74.

O thou whose teeth were wont to reach old hides, And gnaw base rotten soles with dirty sides, Thou hast thy Patron's lands now in th•• grave, In which I vexe that thou a crib shouldst have, And drunk dost break the christals with burn wine, And frigst thy late Lord's Boy as he were th••ne. With letters my sad Parents fooled mee, O learning, what have I to doe with thee? Thalia burn thy Books, and thy quills too▪ If Coblers get such boons from an old shooe.

De effigie Camoni, Epig. 77.

This which you see is my Camonus face, Such his young looks, such his first beauty was▪

Thy countenance grew stronger twice ten years Till a beard cream'd his cheeks with downy haires. The offer'd Purple once his shoulders spread, But one of the three Sisters wish'd him dead, And thence his hast'ned thred of life did cut, Which to his Father in a sad Urne put Came from his absent pile: but least alone This Picture should present his beauty gone, His Image yet more sweetly drawn shall be In never dying papers writ by mee.

De Gellia, Epig. 81.

An old rich wife starv'd Gellius bare and poore D••d wed: So she cramm'd him and he cram'd her.

Ad Auctum, Epig. 82.

My readers and my hearers like my Books, But a quaint Poet sayes th' are not done cleare: I care not much for pleasing of the Cooks, If that my guests affect my slender cheare.

In Munnam, Epig. 83.

Th' Astrologer fore-told of thee, That thou shouldst perish suddenlie; Nor (Munna) doe I think he told a lye; For thou for fear least there should bee

Ought left for thy posteritie, Hast wasted all thy wealth in luxurie, Thy brace of millions in one year was spent, Was not this perishing incontinent?

Ad Rufum, Epig. 89.

While thou didst seek mylove, thou senst mee some Presents, but now thou hast it no gifts come. That thou mayst hold mee (Rufus) still bee free Least th' ill fed Bore break from his fra•••••• and flie.

Domitiano Adulatorium, Epig. 92.

If that a diverse invitation came At once in Jove's and in great Caesar's name, Though that the Stars were near, Rome more remote, The gods in answer should have this my vote, Go seek an other that Jove's guest would bee, My Jupiter on Earth hath fett'red mee.

Lib. 10.

Liber ad Lectorem, Epig. 1.

IF I seem of a tedious length to thee, Read but a few, I will a manual be, M•• Page in three or four short lines shall cease, 〈…〉〈…〉 mee as brief as may thy fancy please.

Ad eundem, Epig. 2.

My tenth Book's care once hast'ned from my hand Is now revok'd againe to be new scann'd, Part hath been publick, but they new smooth'd are, O favour both, the last's the greater share. Reader, these riches when Rome gave to mee, Shee said no greater we can give to thee. By these thou shalt escape oblivion, And live in thy best part when thou art gone. The Fig-tree may Messala's Marble weare, And base Mule-drivers Crispus Statues jeare, No theft can papers hurt, no age thrust by, These Monuments alone can never dye.

In maledicum Poetam, Epig. 5.

Who so by impious verse in all the Towne Scandals the Senators or Matrons gown, Which rather ought be worshipp'd: Let him bee Bannish'd through all the seats of beggerie. And let him from the Dogs bespeak their meat▪ Be his December long, his winter wet, Let his shut Vault prolong the frost most sad, And let him cry such happy that are dead On hellish-bedsteads carried to their grave, And when his last threds their fulfilling have, And the slow day shall come, ô let him see Himself the strife of Dogs, and his limbes bee The prey of ravenous Birds, nor let his pains End in the simple crack of his heart's veins, But feeling the strict doom of Aeacus, One while let him relieve old Sisyphus, Then scortch in Tantalus his dry desire, And all the fables of the Poets tyre, And when the truth the Furies shall demand, May his false conscience cry this was the hand.

De Paulla, Epig. 8.

Paulla thou needs would'st marry mee When thou art old and tough:

I cannot: yet I'de venture thee Wert thou but old enough.

In Calliodorem, Epig. 11.

(Calliodore) there's no other talk with thee But Theseus and Perithous: And would'st bee Conceiv'd like Pylades. But let mee dye If thou deserv'st to hold a Mallet by To Pylades, or feed Perithous Swine, Yet thou sayst thou hast serv'd some friends of thine With twice five Millions, and a Coat thrice wore, What? as if sweet Orestes gave no more At any time to his dear friend? why hee That giveth much, not all, doth more denie.

Ad Crispum, Epig. 14.

Crispus thou say'st thou art best friend to mee, But how you'le make it good I ask let's see? When I desired ten pieces, 'twas denyed, Though that thy Chest could not thy coyne bestride, When didst thou send me one peck of bean meale? When thou didst reap thy fields by fruitfull Nile? In winter frosts when did a short Coat come? Or one half pound of silver in a sum?

I see not how thou my familiar art, But that before me thou art wont to fart.

In Cajum▪ Epig. 16.

(Cajus) if promises be all thy gifts, I'le overcome thee in thy bounteous shifts. Take all th' sturian Digs in Spanish fields, And all the Ore that golden Tagus yields, What ere the Indian finds in the Sea weed, And what the Phaenix in her Nest hath hid, Take all great Tyros cloath of richest dy, Take all men have: O how thy gifts doe fly!

De M. Antonio, Epig. 23.

Happy Antonius in a pleasant age Hath seen fifteen Olympiads on Earth's stage: Looks back on his pass'd dayes and safer years With joy, nor at his near grave shrinks or fears. No day's ingrate or sad to think upon, Nor doth he blush to mention any gone, A good man doubles his life's date: For hee Lives twice, that can his age with comfort see.

In Calliodorum, Epig. 31.

Thou for three hund'red pence thy man didst sell, (Callidore) that thou might'st but once sup well. Nor didst that neither: For afour pound fish Was the crown of thy feast, and thy chief dish, Pase wretch this is not fish we justly can Exclaim, tis man, thou dost devoure a man.

De Imagine M. Antonio ad Caeditianum, Epig. 32.

This draught adorn'd with Rose-buds which you see, Whose Picture is't (Caeditian) ask'st thou mee? Such was Mark Antoni in his prime years, When old such was his unchanged look and hairs, O would that Art his minde and parts could draw, A fairer portraicture earth never saw!

In Lesbiam, Epig. 39.

Lesbia why dost thou swear That thou wast born that year When Brutus was made Consull? tis a lye. Thy Mother brought thee forth her womb When Numa reigned first in Rome,

And so again thou dost the truth deny. For thy long dated ages seem to say Thou wast produced from Prometheus clay.

Ad Philerotem, Epig. 43.

Thy seaventh wife now lyes buried in the field, Thy ground more gain than any mans doth yield.

Ad Julium Martialem, Epig. 47.

Most pleasant Martial these are they That make the happyer life and day, Means not sweat for, but resign'd, Fire without end, fields still in kinde, No strife, no office, inward peace, Free strength, a body sans disease, A prudent plainesse, equal friends, Cheap Cates, not scraped from the world's ends, A night not drown'd, but free from care, Sheets never sad, and yet chast are, Sleep that makes short the shades of night, Art such thou would'st be, if there might A choice be offer'd, nor dost fear Nor wish thy last dayes exit here.

Epitaphium nobilis Matronae, Epig. 63.

Behold these little Marble stones Which veile not to those mighty ones

Of Caesar, nor the Carian pride: Terentus twice my life hath try'd, And twas sincere to my last end. Five Boyes great Juno did me sen d, And just as many Girles as those Whose hands my dying eyes did close. And this rare glory happ'ned more to mee, One prick was privy to my chastitie.

Epitaphium vetulae. Epig. 67.

Here Pyrrha's Daughter, Nestor's Mother in Law, Whom youthful Noibe in gray hairs saw, Whom old Laertes did his Beldame name, Great Priam's Nurse, Thyestes wive's grandam, Surviver to all nine lived Dawes are gone, Old ••lotia with her bald Melanthion Lyes itching here at last under this stone.

De Phillide, Epig. 81.

Two men betimes came Phillida to swive, And strove which of them first the feat should doe, She promised both, to both her self to give, Did it, one stole her gown, th' other her shooe.

Ad Caecilianum, Epig. 84.

Dost wonder Afer cannot sleep? dost see What a sweet faced companion hath hee?

In Ligellam, Epig. 90.

Why dost thou reach thy Merkin now half dust? Why dost provoke the ashes of thy lust? Girles such lasciviousnesse doth best beseem, For thou art pass'd old woman in esteem. That trick (Ligella) suites not, credit mee, With Hecuba, but young Andromache. Thou err'st, if this a C—thou dar'st to call To which no Prick doth now belong at all, If thou cann'st blush Ligella, be afear'd To pull a deceas'd Lyon by the beard.

De Numa, Epig. 97.

While they the Funeral charge prepare Which in the paper piles placed are, And Numa's weeping wife now buyes Sweet perfumes for his Obsequies, His Grave and Beere being ready made, And one to wash his body dead, And me left Heire by his own Pen, Pox on him! he grew well agen.

Lib. 11.

Ad Lectores, Epig. 2.

SAd looks, and rigid Cato's stricter brow, And course Fabricius Daughter from the plough, Disguised pride, manners by rule put on, And what we are not in the dark, begon. My verses Iô Saturnalia cry, And (Nerva) under thee 'tis liberty.

De suis Libellis, Epig. 4.

My lines are not alone delighted here, Nor doe I spend them on the idle eare, But by the sowre Centurion they are lost Under his ensignes in the Getick frost. And Brittain's said my verse to sing: But what Can thence accrew? my purse ne're hears of that. What never dying Papers could I write? And glorious wars in a rich strain Indite!

Should Heaven Augustus once again revive, And Rome to me a sweet Maecenas give!

Ad Romam, Epig. 7.

In Sythe-crown'd Saturn's Feasts, wherein The box of Dice doth reign as King, All-cover'd Rome thou dost permit Me now to sport my fluent wit, So I suppose, for thou did'st smile, Thence we are not forbid the while. Ye pallid cares far hence begon, I'le speak what ere I think upon, Sans any studied delay, So fill me out three cups my Boy, Such as Pithagoras did give To Nero when he here did live, But (Dindymus) fill faster too, For sober I can nothing doe. When I am drunck up to the height Full fifteen Poets seize me streight. Now give me kisses, such as were Catullus his and if they are So numerous as his are said to bee, I will Catullus Sparrow give to thee.

Epitaphium Paridis, Epig. 14.

Thou that beat'st the Flaminian way Passe not this Noble Tombe but stay, Here Rome's delight, and Nile's salt treasure, Art, Graces, Sport, and sweetest Pleasure,

The grief and glory of the Stage, And all the Cupids of the Age, And all the Ʋenusses lye here Interr'd in Paris Sepulcher.

De Libro suo, Epig. 16.

I have such papers that grim Cato's wife May read, and strictest Sabines in their life. I will this Book should laugh throughout and jest, And be more wicked than are all the rest, And sweat with wine, and with rich unguents flow, And sport with Boyes, and with the wenches too; Nor by Periphrasis describe that thing That common Parent whence we all doe spring; Which Sacred Numa once a Prick did call. Yet still suppose these verses Saturnal. (O my Apollinaris) this my book Has no dissembled manners, no feign'd look.

Ad Lupum, Epig. 19.

(Lupus) thou gavest a Farm in Rome to mee, A larger through my loop-hole I can see, But canst thou this a Living call or prove? Which one poor sprig of Rue shades like a Grove?

Which one sly Grashopper's wing hides all ore? And which an Ant can in a day devoure? Which with a Rose-leaf may be crown'd, In which a larger herb cannot be found Than a small Pepper-blade that's newly sprung? In which a Cucumer can't lye along? Nor Serpent safely dwell unlesse half seen? The Garden scarce a Cancker-worm can dine, The wood consumed it starves a single Moth, A Mole's my laborer and Plough-man both, A Mushroom cannot blow in't, nor a Rush Smile, nor sweet Violets their heads forth push. A Mouse layes wast the bounds by the Farmer more Is fear'd than was the Caladonia•• Bore. The Herbage in a Swallow's foot at best Is carryed at a burden to her Nest. Nor can Priapus when hee's but half man'd Without a prick or sickle in it stand. The gathered Crop will scarce a Snails house fill, The Vintage may be housed in a Nut-shell. (Lupus) thou err'dst but in a * 1.1single letter, For when thou gavest mee this thou hadst done better To have invited mee—to dine with thee.

In Gallam, Epig. 20.

Galla dost ask why thee I will not take In marriage bonds to joyn with mee? Thou art too eloquent I see. My Prick doth oft a Solaecisme make.

In Paediconem masturbantem, Epig. 23.

Cause thou dost kisse thy Boyes soft lips with thy Rough chin, and with strip'd Ganimede dost lye, Who does deny thee this? tis well. At least Frig not thy self with thy lascivious fist, This in light toyes more than the Prick of∣fends, Their fingers hasten and the man up sends, Hence Goatish rancknesse, suddain hairs, a beard Springs forth to wondring Mothers much ad∣mired. Nor doe they please by day when in the Bath They wash their skins. Nature divided hath The males: Half to the Girles born to be shown, The other half to men: Use then thy own.

In Silam, Epig. 24.

Sila's prepared to marry mee On any score what ere it bee. But I shall put by Sila still; Be the condition what it will. Yet when she needs would fasten hold Give me cryd I in ready gold Ten hundred thousand sesterties In dowry: For what can be less? Nor will I swive thee though it bee Our very first nights jollitie. Nor shall my Couch or Pallat lye In common both to thee and I. And when my Hand-maid I embrace Thou shalt not dare to make a face. But if thine too I doe command She shall be sent me out of hand. My wanton Boy my lips most sweet Shall smack though thou art by to see't. It makes no matters whether he My Boy or else thy Eunuch bee. And when thou dost to supper come Thou shall sit in a distant room: That my Mantle take no smutch From thy courser garments touch. And when thy kisses I receive It shall be seldom and with leave. Not as a wife, but cold as shee That may my rivel'd Grandame bee.

If thou canst bear such things as these, And nought refuse that I shall please; Sila thou suddainly shalt finde A man to satisfy thy minde.

Ad Phillidem, Epig. 30.

When thou beginst to raise By thy old hand and wayes My languishing desire to force it come Phillis I'me tortured with thy active thumb. For when thou call'st me thy Dear life, thy pretty eye, Me thinks I scarcely am wound up by thee In ten houres to the height of Venerie. Thou knowst not the true flatterie: Say but once thou wilt give to mee A hundred thousand sesterties in hand, So many Acres of Campanian land, A House, and Boyes, and Wine that's old, Tables, and Cups border'd with gold: No fingers then will needful be to thee, Thus Phillis rub me up, thus tickle mee.

In Nestorem, Epig. 33.

When thou hast neither Coat, nor Fire, nor Bed That's eat with Wormes, nor Mat with Sedg patch'd up,

Nor Boy, nor Man, nor Maid, nor infant head, Nor Lock with thee, nor Key, nor Dog, nor Cup. Yet thou affectest to be call'd and seem Poor, and to have a popular esteem. Thou lyest: Thou soothst thy self with va∣nity, (Nester) this is not want, but beggery.

Ad Fabullam, Epig. 36.

Fabullus when thou dost invite Three hundred Strangers to my sight, Dost wonder? and complain? and chide? When thus unknown accompanied? Though call'd I doe not forthwith wait on thee? Me thinks I sup alone, and am not free.

In Ʋxorem, Epig. 44.

Caught with my Boyes, at me my wife the Froe Scolds, and cryes out she hath an ars-hole too. How oft hath Juno thus reprov'd loose Jove? Yet he with Ganimede doth act his love. Hercules bent his Boy, layd-by his Bow, Though Megara had hanches too we know. Phaebus was tortured by the flying Wench, Yet the Oebalian Lad those flames did quench. Though much denyed Briseis from him lay Achilles with Patroclus yet did play.

Give not male names then to such things as thine, But think thou hast two Twats ô wife of mine.

Ad senem Orbum, Epig. 45.

Th' art blinde, and rich and under Brutus bore, And dost thou think true friendship now to have? Tis true: But such thou hadst when young and poor, He that comes now, desires thee in thy Grave.

In Phillida, Epig. 50.

There's not an houre thou dost not plunder mee When thou perceiv'st me mad with love of thee, Phillis thou thiev'st with such calliditie. One while thy cheating Maid weeps for the loss Of some rich Gem, Earing, or Looking-glasse, Which from her hand or eare did slip or passe. Then the Silk-gowns are stolen away shee'le fain. To be recovered at my charge and pain,

Or else some Sweet-box must be fill'd again.

Another while there is an appetite To a rich Jug of falerne wine that's right To expiate the terrors of the night▪

Another while a great Jack I must buy, Or else a two pound Barble: some sweet shee Bespeaks a supper at thy cost with thee.

Blush then at last, and Phillis let there bee A just respect of truth and equitie, I grudg thee nothing: Nought deny to mee.

In Cheraemonem, Epig. 57.

Stoick Cheraemon cause that thou Canst cry up death I know not how Thou would'st have me this thy fortitude ad∣mire: Some broken Pitcher bred in thee This seeming piece of gallantrie, Or else some frozen Chimney without Fire; A noysom Worm, or Coverlid, Or Side-piece of thy naked Bed, Or a short Coat worn by thee day and night, O what a mighty Man thou'lt seem That canst the Dregs of sower red Wine, And thatch, and poor course black bread dare to slight!

But yet suppose thy Couch should bee Stuft with Leuconick wooll for thee, And Purple Vallions should thy Bed attire, And that thy Boy with thee should sleep, Which fill'd rich Wine with rosy lip And set thy love-inflamed guests on fire? O how wouldst thou then wish to see Thrice Nestor's years fullfill'd in thee? And not a minute of a day loss'd have? To slight a life in miserie Is nothing: But he that can bee Contentedly distress'd is truly brave.

De Lesbia, Epig. 63.

Lesbia swears she doth never gratis sport, Tis true: For when shee's swived she payes well for't.

In Ʋacerram, Epig. 67.

Th' art both a Pick-thank, and Detractor, A cunning Cheater, and a Factor, A Lick-twat, and a Fencer too, I wonder much (Ʋacerra) how now? With all these trades thou canst want mony

In Maronem, Epig. 68.

Maro you'le give mee nothing while you live But after death you cry then then you'le give: If thou art not indeed turn'd arrant Ass, Thou know'st what I desire to come to pass.

De Laeda, Epig. 72.

Laeda complain'd to her old man that shee Was choak'd up in her womb, and swived must bee. But weeps and whines her health's not so much worth, And rather choose to dye than thus hold forth. The poor Man begs her live, her youth run on▪ And what he could not suffers to be done. Hence male Phisitians come, and female fly, Up goes her heels: O mighty remedy!

Ad Paetum, Epig. 77.

Paetus thou took'st ten sesterties from mee Cause Bucco loos'd two hundred due to thee, May others crimes I pray nere hurt me! when Two hundred thou canst loose, why not my ten?

Ad Paetum, Epig. 80.

By ten of clock cause we came but a mile We are accused of tedious sloth the while: Tis not the way's, nor mine, the fault's in thee Paetus, that sent'st thy drowsy Mules for mee.

De Spadone & Sene, Epig. 82.

An Eunuch and an old man strove to lye With Aegle, but twixt both she still lay dry, One wanted meanes the other strength to frig, So either's labor itbh'd without a Jig. To Ʋenus then for them and her shee groans, To give the one his youth, th' other his stones.

Ad Sosibianum, Epig. 84.

Sosibian no man dwells with thee Under thy roofe gratis or free, Unlesse hee's rich or in an Orphans state, No House is let out at a dearer rate.

In Parthenopaeum, Epig. 87.

That thy Doctor may asswage Thy Jawes whose cough doth seem to rage Daily (Parthenopaeus) hee Commands that they shall give to thee Life-honny, Kernels, and sweet Cakes, That every Boy unbidden takes. But day by day thy cough growes more on thee, This is no cough (I fear) tis Gluttonie.

Epitaphium Canaces, Epig. 92.

Sweet Canace lyes buryed in this Tombe, On whom the seaventh Winter just hath come.

O mischief! Traveler why dost hast to weep? We must not mourn life shortness now a sleep This kinde of death was worse than death: Her face The Pox consumed, and spoyl'd its tender grace, Those cruel plagues her kisses eate and have, Nor were her lips brought whole to the black Grave. If the hard Fates could not admit of stay, Me thinks they might have come some milder way, But death made hast her pretty tongue to seize, Least her sweet wo••ds should meet the De∣stinies.

In Zoilum, Epig. 93.

Zoilus he lyed that call'd thee vicious Elf, Thou art not vicious, but Vice it self.

De Theodoro, Epig. 94.

A fire consumed the Poet's trump••rie: Apollo can this please the nine and thee? O the great crime of Heaven! ô sad disaster! Because the House was burnt and not the Ma∣ster!

In Thelesillam, Epig. 98.

I can swive four times in a night: But thee Once in four years I cannot occupie.

Ad Flaccum, Epig. 101

Flaccus I would not have a Wench so thin Whose armes my litle Rings can compass in. Whose buttock bones would shave, and knee prick harsh, That wears th' Saws in her loyns, Spears in her arss. Nor would I one that's of a thousand weight, I'de have some flesh but not all glory fat,

In Lydiam, Epig. 103.

Lydia he lyed not that reported has Thou hast a handsom skin but not a face, Tis so whiles silent, and whiles mute you lye, Like Pictures wrought in Wax or Tapestry. But when thou speakst thy skin its grace doth loose, And no tongue more than thine doth thee a∣buse. Beware least th' Officer thee hear and take, Tis monstrous when an Image goes to speak.

Ad Sophronium, Epig. 104.

Th' hast so much shamefastness and honestie I wonder how a Father thou couldst bee.

In Ʋxorem, Epig. 105.

Sweet heart begon: Or use our wayes with us, I am no Curius, Numa, Tatius. Nights spent in pleasant Cups best please my sense, Thou to drink water cann'st rise and dispence. Thou joy'st in darkness, I by light to sport, Or else by day to loose my Breeches for't. Swathes or Coats cover thee, or obscure stuff, No Wench to me can lye displayd enough. Such kisses please like Doves that are a billing, Thou smackst me like thy Grandam so un∣willing, Nor towards the work dost voyce or motion bring, Nor hand: But makest it as some Offering. The Phrygian Boyes in secret spent their Seed As oft as Hector's wife rid on his Steed, Whiles her Sire slept, Penelope though chast Was wont to play her hand below her wast. Thou'lt not be buggerd: Although Gracchus wife Pompey's and others did it without strife.

And when the Boy not present was tis said To fill Wine: Juno was Jove's Ganimede. If gravity by day doth thee delight, Lucretia be: I'le have thee Lais by night.

Ad Lectorem, Epig. 109.

Though thou mayst justly vex at this long Book, Yet for some further distichs thou dost look, But Lupus for his use doth call, And School-boyes for their dinner ball, Then let me goe: Thou holdst thy peace: but tell (Reader) dost thou dissemble too? farwel.

Lib. 12.

De Ligeia, Epig. 7.

IF by thy hairs thy age be to be told, Ligeia by thy crown th' art three years old.

De Africano, Epig. 10.

African has a thousand pound in store, Yet he desires, and hunts, and rakes for more: Fortune hath overmuch bestow'd on some; But plenary content to none doth come.

In Posthumum Epig. 12.

Whiles in loose Cups thou top'st the night a∣way, Then thou wilt promise any thing to doe, But nothing wilt performe on the next day, Pray (Posthumus) drink in the morning too.

Ad Auctum, Epig. 13.

Anger's a kinde of gain that rich men know: It costs them less to hate then to bestow.

Adulatorium Caesari, Epig. 15.

Whatever shined in the Parrhasian Hall Is to our eyes and to our gods given all,

Jupiter stands and wonders to behold Himself in Scythian flames of sparckling gold; Great Caesar's pleasant pride, and vast expence. These Cups may suit with Jove's magnifi∣cence, Such as may well become the Phrygian Boy, Now all with Jove are rich and clad with joy. It shames it shames me to confess of yore How all of us with Jove were very poor.

In Lentinum, Epig. 17.

Lentinus why dost thou complain and groan That all this while thine Ague is not gone? Hee's carried in a Chair, and bath'd with thee, Eates Mushrooms, Oysters, Sow's paps, and Brawn free, Oft fox'd with Setine, oft with Falerne Wine, Nor Caecube drinks without its Snow to joyn, Lyes compass'd in with Rose-buds, black with sweets, In a rich purple Bed, soft Down, fine Sheets. When he doth live so well so brave with thee, Wouldst have thy Ague to poor Dama flie?

In Thelesinum, Epig. 25.

When money without pledg I ask of thee, I have it not thou soon replyst to mee. Yet thou the same man if my field or land Will but pass for me, hast it out of hand.

When to thy friend thou wilt not credit give, Thou cann'st my little hils and trees believe. Lo, thou art to be banish'd: Come field pre∣thee, Wouldst have me now? No, let my field go with thee.

Ad Julium Martialem, Epig. 34.

Julius 'twas foure and thirty year, That thou and I together were. Sweeter dayes were mix'd with soure, But yet the pleasanter were more. And if we should divide the time with a diverse coloured line, The white would over-vie the black. If thou wouldst shun the bitter smack, And stinging tortures of the mind, No man to thee too much bind, Or too much in thy friend believe: Thou shalt joy less, and lesse shalt grieve.

In Pontilianum, Epig. 40.

When thou dost lye, I seemingly believe, When thou repeatst bad verse, my praise I give, When thou dost sing (Pontilian) I sing out, And when thou dost carouse, I drink about, When thou dost fart, I grunt too in conceipt, And when thou playst at Chesse, I am still beat.

Yet thou dost give nothing: dead, you cry I shall be heir: I care not, prethee dye.

In Tuccam, Epig. 41.

Tis not sufficient that thou drunk hast been, But thou desirest so to be call'd and seen.

Ad ••haebum, Epig. 45.

Thou that with Leather cap hast covered The naked Temples of thy hair st••ippd head, How elegantly did he sport and plod, (Phaebus) that verified thy head was shod.

In habentem varios Mores, Epig. 47.

Thou the same man hard, soft, sweet, bitter art, Nor can I live with thee, nor yet apart.

In Lautum Invitatorem, Epig. 48.

If Brawn and Mushrooms thou servst up as vile, As though I wish'd them not, know tis my will. If thou conceiv'st me wealthy, and wouldst bee My Heir for five bare Oysters, farwel thee. But yet thy supper's rich, most rich, yet there To day, to morrow, streight nought will ap∣peare,

That thy unhappy Maide's base broom know may, Or Dog, or house of Office by the way. Of Ba••bles, Hares, and Sow's paps this the end, A pale sulpherous look, and gowty friend. Domitian's Feast's not so much worth to me, Nor Jove's, nor can the high Priest's junckets bee. Upon this score should Jove bring Nectar here, It were as dead Wine, or Crab-vineger. Some other guests go seek Sir to your meat, Whom the vast kingdoms of thy chear may cheat. My friend to some short Steaks may me invite, I like that Supper which I can requite.

In habentem amaenas aedes, Epig. 50.

Thou hast bay Groves, plain, and high Cy∣press Trees, And Baths for more than one man's privacies. Thy lofty Porch on hundred Pillars joynes, And the spurn'd Onix under thy feet shines. The flying hoofs the dusty race rejoyce, And falls of water each where make a noyse, Thy Courts stretch wide: But yet no place we smell To sup, or sleep. How well thou dost not dwell!

De Fabullo, Epig. 51.

Why (Aullus) dost thou wonder that Fabullus is so oft snapt by deceipt? I'le give thee satisfaction streight, A good man's still an undergraduate.

Ad Semproniam, Epig. 52.

He that his brows deck'd with the Muses crowne Whose voyce to guilty men no less was known Sempronia here thy Rufus, here is layd. Whose dust even with thy love still drives a trade, 'Mongst the blest shades thy story he doth bear, And Helen's self thy rape admires to hear, Thou better from thy spoyler didst returne, She though redeem'd did after Troy still burn. Menalaus laughs and hears the Ilian loves, Thy rape old Paris guilt forgives, removes. And when thee those blessed mansions shall re ceive, No shade greater acquaintance there shall have. Proserpine loves although she cannot see Such rapes, that love shall make her kinde to thee.

In Avarum, Epig. 53.

When thou hast so much coyn and wealth with thee That seldom Cittizens or Fathers see. Yet are not liberal, but thy heaps hangst ore Like the great Dragon, whom the Bards of yore Feign'd to be keeper of the Scythian Grove, But the base cause of this thy Muck-worm love, Thou brag'st and dost pretend thy Son to bee: Why dost delude us with this foolerie As though we Blocks or Idiots had bin? Thou wast a Father ever to this sin.

In Zoilum, Epig. 54.

Red haird, black faced, club-footed, and blear-eyed, Zoilus tis much if thou art good beside.

In Polycarmum, Epig. 56

Thou ten times in a year art sick or more. This is not thine (my friend) but tis our sore. No sooner well but for thy gifts dost call. Blush: Prethee once be sick for good and all.

Ad suum Natalem, Epig. 60.

Dear son of Mars, wherein I first did see Great Phaebus rosie-glittering Dietie.

If Countrey worship, and green Altars may Displease, cause I at Rome observ'd thy day? Pardon, if there thy Calends slighted bee, And on my Birth-day if I would live free.

De Ligurra, Epig. 62.

Ligurra thou dost fear that I Verses, and quick sharp Poetry Would spend upon thee, and desirest to bee Thought worthy of that fear conceiv'd on mee, But thou in vain dost tremble and desire, On Bulls the Lybian Lyons their strength tyre, But are not troublesom to Butter flies: Seek then, if thou dost wish thy name should rise, Some poor Pot-poet of the sooty Vault, That with a course Coale, or some putrid Chaulk Writes verses, which are read upon Close∣stooles, Thy head shall nere be raised with my tools.

De Phillede, Epig. 66.

When beauteous Phillis to me all the night, Had gave her ••elf in all garbes of delight, And in the morning I began to sound What gift were best, of Cosmus sweets a pound,

Or Niceros his Unguents, or of fine Rich Spanish Wooll eight pound, or Caesar's coyn Ten yellow boyes: My neck embraced shee, And with as long a kisse alluring mee As marriages of Doves are making up, Phillis desired nought else but a merry Cup.

Ad Clientes, Epig. 69.

Thou early Client that didst cause mee fly The Citty, some ambitious Courts imply, I am no Lawyer, nor ordaind for strife, But slow, and old, and of a quiet life. Rest, and sweet sleep delight me: Which great Rome Denyed: If I must watch here too, I'le come▪

Ad Cautullum, Epig. 74.

I am thy Heir Cautullus, thou hast said it, But I will not believe it till I read it.

De Callistrato, Epig. 82.

Least that Callistratus should not Praise worthy men, he praises all: He that thinks no one hath a blot, Whom can he then a good man call?

De Ʋmbro, Epig. 83.

In winter time and Saturn's holy dayes Ʋmber when poor did me present alwayes

With finest Wheat: but now with courser grain, For now hee's rich, and made a man of gain.

Ad Charinum, Epig. 91.

Charinus cause thou bind'st thy head with wooll, Tis not thy ears that grieve: Tis thy ball'd skull.

De Marone, Epig. 92.

Maro a Vow did make but somthing lowd For an old Friend, by a feirce A gue bow'd; That if this sickness spared him from the Grave, Great Jove a grateful Sacrifice should have. The Doctors promised certain health: O now Maro makes Vowes to scape the former Vow.

Ad Priscum, Epig. 95.

Priscus thou oft dost ask what I would bee If I were rich and rais'd to Potencie. Can any man his future soule declare? Suppose thou wert a Lyon: How wouldst stare?

In Tuccam, Epig. 96.

I penn'd an Epod: Thou beganst to write? Therefore I ceas'd, least thine with mine unite. My Muse to Tragick fancies soard her strain, Thou strov'st to fit the buskin to thy brain. Thence then I touch'd the Harp with learned skill, With new ambition thou pursu'dst mee stil. I Satyrs dared: Thou more exact wouldst bee, I playd light Elegee's, thou ecchod'st mee; What could be less? I Epigrams did frame: And here thou soughtst to rob me of my fame. Say what thou wilt not: Blush all things to bee: And what thou wilt not, Tucca leave to mee.

In Bassum, Epig. 99.

When thou a wife so youthful hast, So rich, so noble, wise, and chast, That the most wicked Goat that is A better cannot wish for his. Thou spendst thy strength with Boyes (we see) Which thy wife's dowry bought for thee, So to his Mistris thy Prick comes Tyred, thus redeemed with mighty summs.

Nor will he stand though tempted by The voyce's or thumbs flattery. Blush then, or let the Law unfold it, (Bassus) this is not thine, th' hast sold it.

Ad Mattum, Epig. 102.

He that denyes himself at home When thou dost knock to see, Dost thou not know his meaning in't? He is a sleep to thee.

Ad Milonem, Epig. 103.

Th'art wont to sell clothes, incense, pretious stone, Cloaks, pepper, silver, bought away th' are gone: Thy wife's a better chaffer: Though oft sold She never doth forsake thee, or loose hold.

Libell. Spect.

Epig. 1.

IN silence Nile thy miracles conceale Nor let great Babylon her cost reveale, May the soft gloryes of Diana's fane Sinck with the Cuckold-god that hornd Jove's name. Nor let the Carian People boast so high Their hanging Monuments twixt earth and sky. Whiles Caesar's single Piece confines alone Fame and the world to one encomion.

In Opera publica Caesaris, Spect. Epig. 2.

Here where that high Coloss the Stars surveys, And lofty engines swell up in the wayes The envied Courts of Nero shined: And one One only house this Citty filld alone. Here where the Amphitheatres vast Pile Is now erected were his Pools ere while. Where we admire the Baths that running gift The proud Field from poor men their dwell∣ings shrift.

Where Claudia's Walk extends its ample shade Was the extream part of his Pallace made. Rome's to it self returnd, And by thee they Though once thine Caesar, are the Peoples joy.

De Gentium confluxu & congratulatione, Epig. 3.

What Nation's so remote or barbarous That has not some spectator here with us? The Thracian High-shooe from Mount Haemus comes, And Russians that in bloud pick up their crums, He that sips the first streams of suddain Nile And he that in the utmost Sea doth toyle. Th' Arabian and Sabaeans hither beat, And moist Cilicians in their unguents sweat. The Germans with their hair curld in a ring And th' otherwise crisp'd Moores their pre∣sence bring. The voyce sounds divers, but the votes a∣gree When Rome's true Father thou art said to bee.

Ad Caesarem quod expulerit delatores, Epig. 4.

An envious crue to pleasant rest and peace Which wretched wealth still studyed to in∣••••••ase

Are to the Getes exil'd: Nor could the sand Receive the guilty Vagabonds on land. So now the Teazers have That bannishment they gave. The Pick-thank's bannish'd the Ausonian gate, The lifes of Princes from their gifts take date.

De Daedalo, Epig. 8.

Now Daedalus thou thus art torne By the Lucanian Bear, How dost thou with thy waxen wings Again to cut the Ayre?

De sue quae ex vulnere peperit, Epig. 13.

Peir••d with a deadly Dart the wounded Mo∣ther At one time loos'd one life and gave another. How sure the levell'd Steel the right hand throwes! This was Lucin••'s arme I doe suppose. Diana's double power she did sustain, When th' Parents was deliverd and yet slain.

De Orpheo, Epig. 21.

What Thrace on Orpheus Stage was said to see Caesar the Sand exhibits here to thee. The Rocks have crept, and the strange Wood did move, Such as was once believd th' Hisperian Grove.

A mingled troop of all wilde Beasts were there, And ore the Bard a cloud of Birds in th' aire. But he lay torn by the ungrateful Bear As it came feigned thence so twas true here.

De Prisco & vero Gladiatoribus, Epig. 29.

When Priscus and Ʋerus did enter the field And their valour proved equall and neither would yield, The people besought that they parted might bee But Caesar the law of Armes would satisfie. The Law was to cuff it out at fingers end, Thence cherishing Cups and gifts he oft did send, A conclusion at last this equal strife found, They both box'd alike, and both fell to the ground. Caesar to both gave rods, both did reward Such guerdons their vertue found that fought so hard This thing hath happ'd (Caesar) to no Prince but thee, When two men contended both victors should be.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Praedium, prandium.